Tall for a Woman
by Miss Judged
Summary: RyanOC Romance. Ryan sparks a romance with the new girl, but in true Miami style, all is not well in Paradise. Where will their troubles lead them? Chapter Twenty Five up especially for Bekahbee and csiwolfe08. Sorry for the wait!
1. The New Kid in Town

_3...4...5.  
Damn, I should have taken the stairs. Is it really necessary for this elevator to move at half the speed of my grandfather's walker? Late on my first day. Just what I need. Damn slow-ass elevator. Damn traffic. Damn parking. Damn…damn Miami._

The doors of the elevator opened, the sixth floor, and Benjamin Wallace stepped onto the clean linoleum of the Miami-Dade Criminalistics Lab. It was 8:42. Her appointment with her new boss, Lieutenant Caine, was supposed to be at 8:30. Like a girl from Moosejaw, Saskatchewan is going to anticipate rush hour in Miami.

"Ms. Wallace? Horatio Caine. We spoke on the phone." He was a good-looking guy in his late forties or early fifties, looking smooth and professional in an expensive suit.

"Lieutenant Caine, it's wonderful to finally meet you. I'm so sorry I'm late." And didn't she look it. Her cheeks were flushed, her brow knotted into a sincere look of concern. Otherwise, though, she couldn't have been more attractive. She looked to be about 5'7". Tall for a woman. She wasn't stick-thin, like so many of the girls in Miami, but she was certainly fit--an athlete, no doubt.

"Ms. Wallace, I don't want you to worry about it. Unfortunately, I just got called out on a case but you can make yourself comfortable, I'm sure." He nodded politely and headed suavely to the elevator. So much for the third degree. He hardly seemed to notice that she was twelve minutes late. Oh well, once less thing to worry about. Taking a deep breath, Benjamin Wallace surveyed her surroundings; the lab here was markedly better than any of the labs she had worked in before, aesthetically, at least. Large storm windows revealed a beautiful beach view. Lots of open space in the building, an illusion further perpetuated by the presence of large windows instead of walls in most of the rooms. After clocking in and asking the receptionist which way to go to the lockers, she took a deep breath and prepared for her first day as a Miami-Dade criminalist.

The first thing she noticed upon entering the locker room was not actually a thing, at all. A tall, dark-skinned man stood at a locker towards the front, buttoning a black dress shirt. He smiled when he noticed her, revealing two immaculate rows of perfect white teeth.

"Lost?"

She was so taken aback by the man's very presence in the locker room (didn't they have separate gender changing rooms?) that it took her a moment to respond.

"Oh…uh, no." She laughed carelessly, regained her composure. "I'm actually new here. I guess you didn't hear." She extended her hand towards him, and he moved forward to shake it.

"Oh…I heard we were getting a newb-uh, new…uh…guy." He flushed, inadvertently caught in his assumption that the new employee would be a male. Quite accustomed to this assumption, Benjamin laughed it off casually.

"Don't worry about it. I would assume I was a guy too. Benjamin. It's a family name. When my parents realized I was a girl…it was too late to change the name on all the monogrammed towels and clothes." What she didn't mention was that she had had a twin, a boy, who had died at birth. It was either her or him, whoever came out first. He was to be Benjamin (her father's, grandfather's, and great-grandfather's name) and she was to be Rhiannon. Devastated at the loss of their prospective heir, Mr. and Mrs. Wallace named their daughter in honour of their lost son. And they never let her forget it.

Obviously unaware of the inner turmoil the conversation roused within his colleague, Eric chuckled to himself at her story.

"Well, at least it makes for a good story at parties, right? I'm Eric Delko, by the way. Nice to meet you." And with another heart-warming smile, he shut his locker and headed in the direction of the DNA lab.

_Cute guy. Maybe this job won't be a complete waste of my time._

Eric Delko practically skipped to the DNA lab, having just encountered a beautiful new colleague. Not that he needed another relationship with a co-worker. Things hadn't worked out so well with Natalia, and this girl looked a bit young, anyway. And who names their daughter Benjamin, honestly! 

"I believe I have something you'll like." Maxine Valera always had something of value to share. She _never_ struck out.

"Oh yeah? The MacDonald case?"

"Blood spatter on the victim's shirt--two donors, one the victim's, obviously, and one unknown…male, but a biological relative of Hannah MacDonald."

"Man…these rich families have got to stop killing each other off. Lucky for us, though; Hannah was a stabbing victim; you know the attackers usually cut themselves in the act. Thanks, Valera."

"Just get me something to compare it to, and I'll have more."

"I'm on it."

Heading out of the lab, preoccupied with his thoughts, he almost bumped into Ryan Wolfe, not exactly his favourite of people. Want to piss someone off? Steal their evidence and take credit for it. Really want to piss someone off? Ask out their ex-girlfriend and ask him for money to take her out. That Ryan really was a piece of work.

"Hey, Delko, you seen the new guy? Message board says I'm supposed to bring him in the field with me."

"New, yeah. Guy…not so much." Delko said with a laugh. Boy, was Ryan in for a surprise and a half.

"Huh? His name's Benjamin Wallace. Even said on the board." Ryan was more than a little confused.

Laughing, Delko shrugged. "Alright, well call him to Reception to bring him with you." He started walking away. "Let me know how it goes."

No way the new guy was a girl. Delko was just kidding with him. But, taking his advice, Ryan got his kit and asked the Receptionist to page this Wallace guy so they could get to the scene. After a minute or so, he heard a female voice say behind him, "Hi, I'm Benny Wallace; I believe you paged me?" 

Ryan turned around to see a young woman with soft brown hair and bright blue eyes speaking to the Receptionist.

"Hi, I'm Ryan Wolfe. I'm uh…taking you to the field today." But his shock was obviously still showing, because she laughed. It poured out of her like champagne on New Years. So natural. So casual.

"Not quite what you were expecting from someone named Benjamin, huh?" Her steely blue eyes pierced into him, but not in the probing, often intimidating way Horatio's did. Her eyes were warm and intriguing. Much like the rest of her.

"I…I guess you caught me. Sorry, I…shall we go?" How do you tell a girl that she got pegged with a guy's name? Not like she didn't know.

They walked out into the Miami sunshine, and straight to Ryan's Hummer, which was parked only meters from the building. Noticing her look of astonishment, Ryan told her that you could reserve a parking space if you asked management of the building.

"I'll take you to do it when we get back, if you want."

_Man, was this work force just crawling with cute guys, or what! Sure, Delko was good-looking in a tough, manly way, but something about Ryan tells me that he isn't just interested in a casual night of random, anonymous sex. Ryan wants more out of life._

She rewarded his offer with her cutest smile, showcasing her often remarked-upon dimples and expensively organized teeth.

"So, where are we going?"

"To meet Horatio at a scene. He went earlier to do some questioning but the scene still needs to be processed before we can release it. I'll drive."

They drove in silence for a while, until Ryan started in on the small-talk: 

"So…you lived in Miami long?" He was obviously tipped off to her immigration by her Canadian accent.

"No…I lived in Moosejaw until I was fifteen. Moved to Boston to get my Bachelor's, and just moved down here about six weeks ago. You?"

"You lived in Boston? I was born there, actually. Came to Miami after University, worked Patrol awhile. You know."

Silence again, this time a little more awkward.

"So…moving out of the country at fifteen…that's rough. Leaving all your friends behind." It would have sounded like a pathetic attempt at conversation if not for the tone of sincerity in his voice. He had been there. He knew all too well what it was like to leave one completely familiar place and find yourself stranded among a group of strangers, embittered towards your very existence because you filled the painful gap of one of their own.

Benny was silent a moment after Ryan spoke. He cursed himself for throwing the comment out there at all. He was just so desperate for a fellow newbie to talk to…someone to understand what it's like to be "The New Guy".

Yes, Benny was silent for a moment, and yes, she did pick up on Ryan's melancholy tone, but that was by no means the cause of her silence. She was trying to figure out how to tell him, without seeming like some sort of freak, why exactly she moved to Boston the month after her fifteenth birthday.

"Actually, funny story about that. I kinda graduated early, and…just headed out to University from there." She tried to sound casual, nonchalant, as if it were no big deal to graduate high school at fourteen years old.

But if Ryan was repelled by her academia, he surely didn't show it. He shrugged. "Good for you. Wish I could have made it out of high school a little earlier." He flashed her the cutest smile she had seen since…she couldn't remember when. "Where'd you go in Boston, anyway?"

This was the moment of truth: if Ryan was going to get freaked out by her, this would be it. She knew where that question went.

"Harvard."

Ryan sighed. "I wish I could've joined you. Got the acceptance letter and everything. But, of course, the old bank account didn't support my ambition. But, hey, UCLA is great, right?" He laughed.

Just because she didn't want him to think she was some rich girl from Noplace, Canada, she added cautiously, "Yeah, I'm really lucky to have gotten the scholarship." Then, "I wish you could've joined me, too."

Another moment of silence, this time without the awkwardness, and with a new compassion between the two.

"So how old are you, anyway? You move to Boston at fifteen, do four years, come here…tell me you're legal voting age." He shot her a teasing glance, one she would pay anything to have caught on camera, to keep like a giddy school girl under her pillow each night.

"I will be…next month. I think I'm going to hit the town to celebrate my new drinking privileges." She hadn't had such a lengthy conversation with anyone in weeks. She drank up every word they spoke to each other, loving the human interaction she didn't even know she had been missing so direly.

"Well, if you don't meet anyone to show you some good clubs and bars…let me know. I'll show you the ropes."

_Did he just offer to take me out!_

Alarms were going off in her head like crazy. The good kind. If there was one thing she had learned, it was that, smart as she was, pretty as she was, guys would rather take out some airhead for a cheap thrill than a girl who gave a seminar on gunshot residue at the age of sixteen. And here was the cutest guy she had ever seen (did she mention that he got cuter by the minute?) offering to take her out for a night on the town in Miami. But before she could produce a witty and insightful response, Ryan pulled up into the gravel driveway of a sprawling estate, and turned off the car. She barely had time to say, "I'd love it if you showed me the ropes" when he hopped out and opened up the trunk to grab his kit and tools.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon processing the house, and so did not have much time to talk, other than the occasional moment of professional insight into the case, with no mention of his offer for her upcoming birthday.

_Not that I expect him to say anything. I've been burned so many times, the last thing I expect is for a guy to be compassionate, consistent, or even just interested in me. I've dated, sure…but one thing I know for sure is that there is one thing guys want from girls. And it isn't intellectual conversation and emotional stability. They make it seem like it was a crime to save it for marriage. I had only expected them to be worse in Miami, and yet, there's this Ryan…_

She rolled over in bed, slid her hands under the coolness of her pillow, and gazed at the alarm clock on her dresser: 2:45. She had to wake up in less than five hours. But she couldn't manage to sleep. 

She had been working at CSI for just over two weeks, and in that time, she and Ryan had grown--fortunately--quite close. The past two Fridays, they had gone out for drinks…sort of. Root beer for her. Child that she was.

Cursing her youth, she rolled over onto her back. Would Ryan ever take her seriously when she couldn't even legally buy drinks? Sure, he was no geriatric himself--he was only twenty-six--but to some people, being twenty is being a nervous, pimply-faced adolescent.

Not that anyone at work treated her with disrespect. She supposed that Ryan and Horatio just neglected to mention her age to their co-workers, because, though they obviously noticed that she was by far the youngest member of the team, no one made a point of bringing it up. They actually acted quite warmly to her.

Ryan was another story, entirely. Though people were polite and civil towards him, there seemed to be a great deal of bitterness in the air when Ryan entered. Rumour had it that he replaced a very popular CSI who had been killed in the line of duty, and no one ever forgave him for it. Poor guy. Never even met this Speedle guy, and he was being haunted by him every day at work. People were nice enough to him, but there was a definite feeling of tension towards him, and, try as hard as he might to pretend he didn't notice, he wasn't fooling Benny. Last Friday, over drinks, he had confided in her that he had actually considered a career change--or at least a change in venue--because of the lack of camaraderie at the workplace.

"That was before you came, though." He had said sheepishly, bowing his head shyly, a flush creeping up his soft cheeks.

_Does that mean he's interested!_

Benny dared not get her hopes up. The possibility that he wasn't really interested in her--could never be interested in a juvenile brainer like her--was just too great. The risk of rejection, too high.

For now, all she could do was sleep. And wait for Thursday. Her birthday. Of course, she had made no friends outside of the lab since coming to Miami, and she wondered desperately if Ryan's offer from her first day was still valid.

Ryan Wolfe rolled over in bed, his legs tangled in his sheets. Getting out of bed, but not turning on the light for fear that it would wake him up for the rest of the night, he re-made his bed for the second time in four hours. 

_Women + OCD no rest for the weary._

All night, he had been preoccupied with thoughts of the new girl. Benjamin. Benny, as she told him to call her. He laughed to think back on her first day, when he had actually expected her to be a man. A man, she was most definitely not. Those long, strong legs. Those piercing blue eyes. That full yet fit figure. Those soft, delicate golden-brown curls, falling just past her shoulders. The tattoo on her beautifully tanned lower back. He grinned at the memory of the day he first saw it.

She had been bending down to get some vinyl polysiloxane, and, being a male, his eyes followed her downward, and noticed a thin strip of bare skin, between her belt and the bottom of her shirt. Jokingly, he had mentioned it to her.

"Quite the tat you got there"  
She looked up, confused. "Pardon?"

"Lower back. Your tattoo. It's nice."

She blushed, obviously uncomfortable in her position of being a police officer, an authority figure, yet disfigured by this permanent ink.

"I got it when I moved to Boston. Present from my Dad."

"What does it say?" The tattoo, unlike most, was not an image, but five words, scrawled neatly in Edwardian Script:

Pride goeth before a fall

"It's from the Bible," she explained, pulling up her shirt in back and moving closer so that he could see it. She turned her head to speak to him as she did so, flipping those gorgeous curls. God, she looked good. With her body less than a foot from him, that tattoo suspended in the playground of her dimpled lower back, it had taken all of his self-control not to place a gentle, loving hand on her hip as he inspected the penmanship.

I guess it's a good thing Calleigh came in then. Who knows what kind of rejection I had in store.

Getting into his freshly-made bed and closing his eyes in a welcome invitation of sleep, he thought about Benny's upcoming birthday.

_Did she think I was kidding when I offered? Does she think I'm just some loser from the lab who makes her get drinks with him on Fridays?_

He restlessly tossed and turned, finally ending up on his stomach, with his hands absorbing the fresh coolness of the sheets under his pillow.

_She's been here two months. Probably made tons of friends, if not a boyfriend. Like she would ever want to spend her twenty-first birthday bar-hopping with some geek from the lab._

His last waking thought before sleep finally claimed him in her name:

_I'll ask her about Thursday first thing tomorrow. If Delko doesn't first. Why I ever told him about her birthday is a mystery to me._

Benjamin Rhiannon Wallace overslept the morning of her 21st birthday, and, though she let out an impressive string of expletives upon waking, she could hardly say she was surprised. The previous night, her best friend, Scott Matthews, had come over with an expensive bottle of chardonnay, for them to enjoy in her honour. Benny had never been much of a drinker, and so, by the time they had split the bottle (almost evenly), both she and Scott were sufficiently plastered. She let him bunk on her couch, telling him that if he didn't fold the blankets in the morning, there'd be hell to pay. And so she found herself being rudely awakened, an hour late, by her pager, which was never more than a few feet from her reach. At first, she couldn't understand why Horatio would be paging her; it was much too early to be getting up for work, right? But upon more closely examining her alarm clock, it was she who was alarmed, to see that it was, in fact, 9:30 in the am. 

"Scott! How could you let me sleep in so late!" She screamed, pulling on a blouse and dress pants as she ran frantically through her apartment in desperate search of a pair of matching shoes.

"Relax, muffin; it's your birthday!" _Damn that Scott, how can he always be so laid back about everything! Maybe it's a gay thing. Maybe it's a late- twenties thing. Damn him. Damn my alarm clock. Damn Miami. Damn this apartment--_

"Where are my green pumps!" She practically shrieked, pulling apart her closet in search of her shoes. Tears of frustration and anger were running down her cheeks now; hardly the best way to start a birthday. Finally finding her shoes, she pecked Scott on the cheek and told him she'd be home by seven or so, for yet another special birthday dinner. She had met Scott in University, and wasn't it fortunate; she could hardly make toast, let alone cook for herself every night. Since then, they had grown especially close, with sentimental birthday dinners for them both every year, no matter how far apart they might be living.

"Alright, love, have a wonderful birthday! Love you!"

"Love you!" _Damn, I look like hell. Consuming half a bottle of wine with an alcoholic volume of 14 on an empty stomach on a weeknight, not such a good idea. I wonder if I can put some makeup on in the car. Or at work. If I don't get fired first._

Ryan Wolfe couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervous. It was her birthday, and she wasn't even at work. 

_Did she take the day off? Maybe normal people do that. Maybe she had a late night with that guy…_

Wanting to ask her out for drinks on the night of her birthday, Ryan had driven past Benny's place Wednesday night, having dropped her off there the two previous times they had gone out. As he had past her house, he saw her in the passionate embrace of some guy. A men's overnight bag lay at their feet. The guy was staying the night.

_Her boyfriend?_

And now, it was almost ten in the morning and she wasn't even at work. Ryan had been late for work once before; her name was Erica Sykes. He knew the implications of being late for work.

Ryan Wolfe couldn't remember the last time he had been so nervous. After failing to speak to Benny at her house, he had driven around for over an hour, trying to figure things out. He had then gone home and spent another sleepless night, tossing and turning in bed as he thought of Benny and that guy…embracing in her driveway…her feet in the air as she clung to his neck, her waist tightly clenched in the safety of his arms. After a few hours, Ryan knew he was just kidding himself, and went to the florist across town--the nice Jewish guy with the cute dog, not the new Hungarian one--to spend over an hour picking out the perfect birthday bouquet. It now sat in the back of his Hummer, a sentimental waste of $38.00. How could he possibly give her flowers after having seen her with that guy? What had he been thinking at seven this morning?

"Ryan! HaveyouseenHoratio? I'mreallysorryI'mlateImusthaveoversleptmyalarmand--" Benny was standing at the door of the Questioned Documents lab, breathless and flustered, but all the more beautiful with her cheeks flushed and curls out of place.

"Benny! Deep breath…" Ryan lead her in a single hyperventilation and told her to begin again.

"OK. I'm really sorry I'm late; I must have overslept my alarm and traffic was really bad on the thruway…" Her voice drifted off as her eyes welled up with tears. Poor kid. No one likes to be late. Ryan got up and, without thinking, wrapped his arms around her. He pushed a stray curl out of her face and held her there for a moment before speaking. Surprisingly, her arms were wound just as tightly around him.

"Don't worry about it, Ben. Everyone is late once in a while. It's fine. Besides--" He held her out from him, as if scrutinizing her for the least sign of increased age "It's your birthday." He smiled at her, and when she smiled back, moist cheeks and all, he could have honestly melted. She was such a sweet girl. Getting all upset over an hour and a half of tardiness. She should hear some stories about Delko!

"Thanks, Ryan. You're…" Could she say 'a sweetie'? Was that crossing the line? Was he just being a friend? "The greatest." _That's safer. Leave it to him to interpret it. Leave it to me to worry about my job._

If Ryan was to openly interpret her response, he didn't have time, because at that point, they were interrupted by an attractive Southern belle, Calleigh Duquesne. 

"Hey, Ryan, do you have the results on the vic's suic-" She looked up from the file folder to see her co-workers in an embrace, gazing at each other. "Sorry, I'll uh…come back."

"No, no, it's fine, I was just…saying happy 2-1 to Ben…Benny…Ms. Wallace." Ryan's voice cracked on the last syllable.

Great, now she'll think I'm not interested, AND not through puberty.

"Oh! Well happy birthday, Ben! I didn't realize you were so young!" Calleigh smiled kindly, playing naïve at the scene she had walked in on. Neither Ryan nor Benjamin believed for a second that their ambitious, intelligent colleague was anything but on the ball, but it made the moment sufficiently less awkward. "Now, Ryan, did you process the suicide note? I had a feeling it wasn't legit, but I can't bring in the boyfriend until I have some evidence behind me." Back to business. As Ryan and Calleigh discussed the case, Benny excused herself and walked down the corridor, her sought-after shoes clicking on the linoleum floor. Upon seeing Horatio at the Reception desk, she took a deep breath and went forward. If she was going to get fired, might as well get it over with so she could clean out her locker and spend some time with Scott before he had to go.

"Lieutenant Caine. I'm so sorry I'm late. My alarm--I--I'm so sorry--I'm not usually late I just--I'm so sorry." Why do I always manage to sound like some kid late for her part-time job at the Wal-Mart café?

Horatio Caine smiled in that compassionate way he had, letting Benny know that it was all OK.

"I…don't want you to worry about, alright? I believe Valera has some results for you. Then you can go into the field with Eric." He smiled at her dismissively, letting her know that she was off the hook. She thanked him graciously, forever a pimply-faced Wal-Mart employee, and practically skipped down the hallway.

_Maybe this birthday won't suck horribly, after all._

"Oh, and Ms. Wallace?"

_Spoke too soon. Here it comes. My ass is grass._

"Happy birthday."

_I think I'm in love with this day._

"Delko!" _Ryan Wolfe. What does he want this time? My little black book? My tips on picking up women? The nerve of some guys._

"What's up, Wolfe?" Eric Delko's tone was no more inviting than it absolutely needed to be.

"You're in the field with Wallace today, right?"

"Yeah…" _Where is this going?_

"Do you think I could…like…take the case for today?" He moved closer, in the universal sign of secrecy, as he bowed his head and furrowed his brow, trying to play the part of a serious man having a serious man-to-man with another serious man.

Delko frowned. _What is this about?_ "I guess. I have some old paper work I could catch up on. Any reason why?"

Ryan sighed. How to explain to Delko, who was obviously also interested in Benny, that he wanted to spend some time with her, get a feel for where their relationship was going? "Well you know it's Ben's birthday…"

Eric waited. He had somewhat looked forward to spending some time with his beautiful colleague, and, though he wasn't ecstatic about sacrificing that time, it also meant Wolfe would be out of the Lab for the afternoon, giving him some time with Natalia, see if they couldn't sort things out.

When Ryan didn't finish his sentence, obviously expecting Eric to draw whatever conclusions he might, Delko spoke up.

"You planning something special in the field for her birthday?" He was half-joking, of course. But only half. Ryan had almost lost his job for a woman once. Who knows how much of a romantic he was.

"Well, you know, we're kinda friends and I just thought it'd be nice to hang out a bit today. Nothing really." _That's right, play down the bouquet of flowers and the desperate desire to find out the deal with that guy from her driveway. Play it right the hell down._

Ryan's casual tone and careless air did nothing but amuse his Cuban co-worker. But what the hell, why not humour him? I'm not terribly interested in her anyway. "Sure, Wolfe." He practically slammed the file folder containing the details of the case into Ryan's chest. "But if anything goes wrong, it's on you."

"Thanks, man, I owe you one!" Ryan called out as he practically skipped down the hallway.

_Wolfe never gets any less weird._


	2. Corpses and Passionate Kisses

Benny was going over some crime scene photos, scrutinizing them in search of any small detail, just a thread, that could help them to catch the first serial rapist she had ever encountered, when she heard a noise behind her and jumped.

"Oh, Ryan…it's just you." She exhaled more loudly than she had intended to.

"Thanks, that's sweet…'just Ryan'." He teased flirtingly. "So I guess it's you and me on the Jackson scene today, huh?" He tried to sound casual, but to no avail. His hands were shaking in their gloves.

"Oh yeah? I thought I was working it with Eric?" She hardly seemed concerned.

"Yeah, uh…you know that's uh…" A deep breath, and he started again. "Something came up." Not a lie. I came up.

She smiled sweetly. "That's great! What more could a girl want?"

God, she's gorgeous. You could keep a man's heart in those dimples.

"I'll just finish up here…I should be done within a half hour."

God, he's gorgeous. This birthday is decidedly lucky.

It's her birthday, but I'm getting the gift. It was all he could do not to break out into song as he left the lab. 

Forty-five minutes later, Ryan beeped the lock on his Hummer, simultaneously putting on his sunglasses and shooting a surreptitious glance at Benny to see if she was shooting a surreptitious glance at him.

In his car, Ryan felt the confidence of a man who knew what he wanted. It was an illusion, of course. He didn't even know what he wanted for lunch. Maybe some roast beef.

"So, big 2-1, huh? How does it feel to be a voting, drinking, porn-buying citizen?"

Benny laughed right out loud, the beautiful sound bubbling out of her and dancing with invisible particles across the universe.

"Yeah, I'm psyched. You've just built it up so much."

"Oh, I'd say us alcoholic voters have a pretty good team."

Conversation between the two was always like this, casual, comfortable, relaxed. Natural. But, of course, there was just enough subtle anticipation on both of their parts that there was never a single dull moment with them.

"Well, between you and me, I got wasted last night with a friend of mine from University." Her eyes flashed, obviously proud of her great act of defiance and rebellion. Drinking alcohol a whole six hours before her birthday.

But Ryan wasn't focusing on the fact that Benny had been drinking the night before. He found himself nervously concentrating on the image of her standing in her driveway, captured in the firm, capable grasp of that guy.

Can I bring it up? Is it creepy that I drove past her house last night? What do I say? What would she say?

Before he could say anything, though, Benny's cell phone started ringing to the tune of "Girls Just Want to Have Fun".

"Cute ring, eh?"

Was she even alive when that song was released?

"Scott! Hey, what's up, love?" Oh, damn. He is her boyfriend! "Yeah, I'm just on my way to a scene." A pause. "Yeah, sure. You like two percent, right? Don't know how you drink it. It's like cream." They're talking about groceries! Why don't they just get married already! "Oh, yeah, how are you feeling?" A pause. "I sincerely hope you're wearing gloves and a surgical mask at all times during the preparation of the meal. The last thing I need is illness." Try not hugging the guy in the middle of the street. I hear it's a good way to avoid contracting viruses.

Suddenly, Benny noticed how her conversation with Scott must sound to Ryan. I can't let him think Scott and I are involved! Think, Benny, think!

"So, Scott, whatever happened with you and that guy from the gym? Did you ever end up asking him out?" There. That should let Ryan know how it is.

On the other end, Scott chuckled. "You're with a cute guy right now and you want him to know that you and I aren't an item, aren't you?" He always saw right through her. They were the soul mate-style friends. "You should bring him around tonight for dinner. No way is he getting to my girl before getting a definite thumbs-up from my side of the mountain."

Benny giggled, relieved that Scott understood the situation without any need for explanation. "Alright, I'll see what I can do. I'll pick up the milk on my way home. If you need anything else, my cell's on." A pause. "Love ya!"

She snapped he phone shut and glanced over at Ryan to see if he understood that Scott was no threat. Maybe I should explain. Just in case. They really can be stupid sometimes.

"That's my friend Scott. We met in University because we were interested in the same guy. Word to the wise: if you're chasing the same guy as your gay best friend, you're probably wrong." If that doesn't settle it, he's too thick for my liking, anyway.

Ryan visibly sighed in relied. The gay best friend. A cliché, maybe, but a relief nonetheless. "You guys are pretty close, huh?" Wow, I must be Captain Obvious.

"Yeah, he's not close with his family, and I've lived away from home since my teens, so we give each other a lot of the familial stuff that we wouldn't get otherwise." Here's my chance. "Actually, we're doing the birthday thing tonight, if you wanted to…join. Maybe afterwards I'll take you up on that offer to show me the bars." Idiot, idiot, idiot. Way to set yourself up, idiot. You don't even know if he's single. Idiot. You work together, idiot!

Ryan Wolfe's face was the definition of pure joy. "I'd love that. I don't want to…intrude though. I mean…if it's a tradition between you guys." That's right, you're not too eager to go. Then, not wanting to see too aloof, he added, "But, it does sound nice. I could use a night out."

"Great!" She responded brightly. "Scott's a great cook. We always surprise each other with our birthday dinners. I think you two will get along just fine."

They arrived at the scene, and began unpacking their kits immediately. Shortly thereafter, Benny sat down on the edge of the trunk, breathing heavily.

"Are you OK?" Ryan's voice cracked on the last syllable.

"Yeah…Scott's just getting over a flu. I'm just feeling a bit off-colour."

"Yeah, you don't look so great."

"Thanks. Happy birthday to you, too." She smiled at him weakly.

"No I meant…here." He reached into a drawer in the back of his Hummer, pulling out a variety of over-the-counter pill bottles. He handed her a round, orange pill.

"What's this?"

"Five hundred milligrams of tropical-flavoured vitamin C." He handed her another pill.

"And this is…?"

"Echinacea. When we get back to the lab I'll make you some rose hip tea. Works wonders for stomach bugs."

"Wow, Ryan, I didn't know you were so…maternal." Upon seeing the look on his face, she quickly added, "I mean that in a really good way. It's nice to be taken care of." She felt better already just because he cared.

Not knowing what to say, he just replied meekly, "Well, you know…no one likes to be sick. Least of all me." You're smooth, man. What girl doesn't want to date her MOM!

They processed the scene for four straight hours, barely speaking, as they had divided up the large property to maximize efficiency. Benny liked it, though; it was nice to throw herself into a task mindlessly, with no regard for any emotional situations in her own personal life. It was a little past 3:30 when she made the fateful mistake of opening up the washing machine. Inside was the most horrifying sight upon which she had ever laid eyes. A mangled, dismembered corpse floated in soapy water, and when she opened the lid of the machine she was struck like a punch by a stench so putrid and wretched that she immediately felt bile rising in her throat.

Breakfast all over again.

Ryan had been working the kitchen for a few hours, his obsessive-compulsive tendencies making him go painfully slow as he went over every detail meticulously, tediously. The familiar sound of Benny's footsteps behind him brought him out of his workaholic trance. She was running full-tilt. Turning around, he barely had time to recognize her before she shouldered past him, onto the driveway, and proceeded to vomit violently all over the gravel. He rushed up to her to hold her hair out of her face.

A few minutes passed, and she no longer had any food to vomit. Ryan handed her a bottle of water one of the officers had given him and she whispered her thanks to him. She looked like hell. Her face, which usually had a rosy glow, was ghostly white, her lips papery and faded. Her eyes were bloodshot and red from having been leaning down. Tears from the violent action dotted the corners of her eyes.

"I'll take you home. You shouldn't have come to work sick." But he didn't say it in an accusatory, critical tone. He was openly expressing concern for her well-being.

"Ryan…it's not the flu. I saw…" How to explain? The very memory of the sight made her feel nauseous all over again. "Check the washing machine. And--" She leaned closer, embarrassingly aware of how she must smell. Eau de nasty puke. "Don't think less of me for having reacted this way, please." Her eyes begged him to respect her.

"I'll check it out. Right after I put you in the car." She was too exhausted to protest, and she let him set her up in the front seat of his car, reclined, with the air conditioning in her face and a bottle of water in her hands.

A few minutes later, Ryan returned. If Benny's face had been white, his was nearly transparent. He was staring straight ahead as he walked to his car and sat down in the driver's seat. They didn't speak for several minutes; they just sat together in silence, both painfully reminiscing on the dreadful sight. Finally, Ryan spoke.

"I won't tell if you won't." He was referring, of course, to the physiological reaction they had both had to the desecrated corpse in the washing machine.

"I've never had a weak stomach before." She was mad at herself. She hated herself for further perpetuating the stereotype that girls couldn't handle blood and guts and gore. She had fought that stereotype for two decades, always being the first to take the plunge in an autopsy, always going two steps further than her male classmates and colleagues. "I'm not usually such a wimp. I just…the smell." She looked at him, tears standing in her eyes. "It's hard to believe it's a person. Someone that used to talk, and eat, and…they're not even a body anymore." She leaned back, heaving a mighty sigh, willing the tears away.

Six inches away, Ryan was fighting back the same tears and vomit she was. He was also fighting every instinct in his body by not taking her hand in that moment.

"My first autopsy at CSI. It was, uh…a few years ago. Cranial blunt force trauma victim. Alexx, she, uh…cut the guy's head off, and boiled it for tool impressions. I ran out after five minutes."

She smiled at him. He was trying.

"It's OK to feel sometimes, Ben. With this gig there's always a risk that you're going to become too smooth, and it won't affect you anymore. You're human." A moment's thought, and then, "That's what I like about you."

The buzzer rang. It was 8:00 in the evening. And it had been a long day. After finishing the scene (sans washing machine), Ryan and Benny had gone back to CSI to file reports. And send Delko for the body. No mention was made of "the incident", though at the end of shift, at the lockers, Ryan had asked her how she was feeling. It was between them and none others.

Now the buzzer rang in her ears for the first time since she had moved in. Seeing how she had picked Scott up at the airport, this was her first door-ringing guest.

Who is it? Delko?

She had invited him, more out of thanks for his help with the victim than anything. She liked him enough; she just wasn't all that close with him.

Calleigh?

Benny had invited the big sister she never had earlier that afternoon, pining in a strange way for her approval. And she had obliged.

Dan Cooper, the cute computer nerd?

Or even Boa Vista?

Benny wasn't naïve to the obvious tension between the beautiful cold case-analyst and two of her male co-workers (unfortunately, including Ryan), but Natalia was nice enough to Benny and she wasn't in any position to be picking and choosing friends. She had even invited Horatio, wondering cautiously if that would be crossing the line with her new boss, but, thankfully, he had previous engagements for the evening.

And now the buzzer was ringing, and she was nowhere near ready. She had only just stepped out of the shower a moment ago, and was now wrapped in a beige towel, sorting through potential outfits.

"Scott! Could you get that! I'm not decent!" But to no avail. Scott was down the street, picking up a few last-minute items for the meal.

"OK! OK! I'm coming!" Ben ran down the stairs and swung the door open.

Oh…my…dear…sweet…Lord. Idiot! Hey, Benny, isn't it logical when you're hosting a party with your co-workers at your new job, to, I don't know, put some clothes on when answering the door! No, I like to look like an idiot as much and as frequently as possible.

"Ryan! Hey! Come on in…IwasjustgettingoutoftheshowerwhenyourangandScottisn'thereright--"

"Benny…deep breath…" He inhaled and exhaled deeply as a demonstration. "Now, continue."

"I was just getting out the shower when you rang, and Scott is down the street getting some groceries. Sorry." Her face was lit aflame with embarrassment. "Come on in, though; I'll just be a minute."

"Thanks. I, uh…" He held out a large bouquet of flowers and a wrapped gift. "Happy birthday." Damn it, Ryan, it's way too much. Now she's going to think you're a huge creeper.

"Oh, Ryan! You really didn't have to at all. That is so sweet!" She made to take the extended gifts from him, but felt her towel slipping and quickly grabbed it. "Would you mind holding onto those for like one sec? Just until we get upstairs." Not the way I like guys to see me naked.

She led him up the narrow staircase, painfully aware that the towel was a bit short in back to be walking ahead of someone on a flight of stairs. They reached a well-lit hallway, smelling of fresh paint, and she turned to the first door on the left.

"It's really not much…just a place to stay until I get on my feet." They entered, and she told him to make himself comfortable while she got dressed.

"Help yourself to anything. Kitchen is through the swinging doors and you can check out what's on TV if you want. I'll be right out."

What to wear, what to wear…

Feeling more rushed than she would have liked, she put on one of the five outfits she had picked out as options for the evening. A flowing, hot pink skirt and plain white t-shirt. Turquoise jewellery. She towel-dried her hair until it was somewhat dry, and hoped for the best. When she opened the door to her bedroom, she saw Ryan sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen counter, looking at the photo album Scott had brought her. It was a few years old; they updated it every time they got together. He regarded each photo thoughtfully; pictures from school, various birthdays, parties…he couldn't help but noticing, with a hint of guilty satisfaction, that the only guy Benny seemed to be posing with was Scott.

Seems like my big competition is the gay best friend.

"Neat, eh? We've been adding to it for years. Scott was really interested in photography for a while there; it shows with the artsy pictures from third-year." She flipped back several pages and indicated a series of slanted portraits with artistic lighting and shutter tics. They continued flipping through old pictures for a few minutes, Benny pointing out the occasional shot and explaining with a humorous anecdote the history of the photograph.

"Oh, I nearly forgot the flowers!" She rushed to the counter where Ryan had put them down, and carried them gently to the kitchen sink. "Ryan…these are beautiful. You've really got taste, you know." She cut the ends, and set them up in a tall purple vase in the centre of the table.

"I also got you…" He picked up the wrapped gift and handed it to her. "This. It's nothing really. I just thought you might be interested in it." Why do my hands have to constantly shake!

Benny eagerly tore the paper off, revealing the cover of a thick novel, entitled, "Man Descending." She looked up at Ryan, ready and willing to fling her arms around him.

"You know, because…the author…Guy Vanderhaeghe…he's from Saskatchewan, right?" Oh, damn, she hates it. Should've stuck with the gift certificate. "It's, uh, his first book and it…won the Governor General's Award?" Just start apologizing now. Idiot!  
"Ryan, it's…it's perfect." She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He smells like chicory. And cute, sensitive, thoughtful, compassionate man. "Do you realize that I have been looking for a copy of this book since High School! Ryan! You're amazing!"

He didn't think. For the first time in his life, Ryan Wolfe put no thought into his actions. He moved forward, and just kissed her, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She jumped the tiniest bit at first, surprised at his sudden affection, but within a split second, she was embracing his every touch. He moved one hand to the nape of her neck, running it through her damn curls. He placed his other hand gently, ever so softly, on her hip, the tiny strip of exposed skin between her skirt and her t-shirt. He moved his body towards her, wanting to never be out of contact with her skin for another moment in his life.

I could kiss her forever.

Benny shied away from his touch for the briefest fraction of a second, shocked that he had suddenly kissed her so passionately. But now, here she was, her arms wrapped around his neck, caressing his hair playfully, her body pressed into his.

I could kiss him forever.

But, it's true of course, that all things must pass. Not much more than a minute passed, and they broke apart. Staring into each other's eyes. Benjamin Rhiannon Wallace was truly, completely content for the first time since she had moved to Miami.

He has such beautiful eyes.


	3. A Mean Sitting Horse

"Nice place you got here. Reminds me of my apartment." Benny was setting the table, and Ryan was strolling through her living room, examining the books on the shelves, the C.D. collection, the framed pictures. 

"It's kind of a mess right now. I've just been so busy lately, and as much as I love Scott, he's not exactly a neat freak"

"I resent that!" He called from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth.

Ryan laughed. _This is how it's supposed to be. We don't even have to talk about the kiss; we know how it is._

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ben; this place is immaculate. Are you maybe a little OCD?" He said with a laugh.

"Are you kidding me? She wrote the book on obsessive compulsive behaviour. Literally. I've read parts. It's pretty good. If you're into psychobabble." Scott came out of the bathroom, tucking in his shirt.

Ryan shot Benny a questioning glace.

"Oh, really now?" He meant it as a joke; he himself had quite the case of OCD. But Benny's face was bright red. She bowed her head as she adjusted a plate on the table.

"I'm not that bad." She almost whispered. Ryan smiled and put an arm around her.

"Your books are arranged by size. Your C.D.'s are in alphabetical order by artist." He kissed her forehead. "Takes one to know one." He whispered softly. She smiled at him. _We're a match made in heaven. Most guys shy away from girls with OCD like we're control-freaks. Ryan's apartment is probably even neater than mine._

They were interrupted by the door buzzer, and from there the night only got more hectic. But it was one to be remembered. Calleigh and Eric arrived together, Calleigh having lost a match of rocks, paper, scissors, and being assigned the role of Designated Driver. Natalia came around shortly thereafter, soon followed by Dan, and a handful of friends from Harvard who Scott had persuaded into coming.

A moment's glance between Benny and Ryan when Calleigh and Eric arrived told them in an instant that, as co-workers, both relatively new, they would keep the details of their relationship private for the time being. And so, throughout the evening, they would find ways to subtly and discreetly display their affection. When Scott brought out the Boston cream pie, decorated with twenty-one burning candles, and Benny leaned in to blow them out, Ryan braced her with a single gentle hand on her waist and she replied with a secretive glance.

_He is _such _a good kisser._

When she handed him his wine, her hand lingered on the cool glass for just a moment longer than necessary, their skin just barely touching, but more than enough to remind them of the embrace they had shared only a few hours previously. People ate, drank, mingled, and generally enjoyed themselves until just past two o'clock in the morning, when the last guests left, leaving Benny and Ryan alone in the living room, Scott having retired to bed, a little inebriated but unwilling to admit it.

"So that was a nice party," Ryan said conversationally. "You're getting pretty popular with everyone, huh?" _Must be nice._ Benny knew that he was trying to hide his jealousy; he had been working with these people for a few years now, and still had failed to gain their respect, let alone their friendship. Benny had been there only two weeks, but they had all come to her birthday party, and even brought gifts!

"Yeah, they're nice people." She kissed him lightly. "You're still my favourite, though."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, other than Eric." She shot him a teasing glance. "You've got to admit; the man is sculpted like a Mayan god." _My God, I'm flirting! Yep, she's still got it._

"A Mayan god, huh? I guess I'll just be leaving then." Ryan stood up in mock-frustration. Benny tugged at the bottom of his shirt and brought him back down onto the couch. He kissed her for a long time, and then sighed. "So…what's the story, Wishbone?"

"What's the story on what?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Us. What exactly are we telling people? And when? And how?" He tried to sound casual as he traced the pattern on her skirt with one finger.

"Well…we are co-workers." She frowned. "And new. And young. I don't know that I want to give anyone any more reason to doubt our professional credibility, at least until…" She faded off.

"Until we know that this is going somewhere?" He spoke her mind with conviction and surety. _No sense in pretending I wasn't thinking the same thing._

"No point in ruining two perfectly good careers over a potentially dead-end relationship." Ryan shot her a surprised look. "I'm just saying we should hold out until we know that it's worth the risk to let people know." _I probably could have worded that better._

"Ben, I couldn't agree more."

It was another five days before Ryan noticed that he and Ben had identical handedness; they were among only 15 of the population that was left-hand dominant. He was walking past the break room, and as he looked in, he saw her sitting at the table, looking over a case file and scribbling notes furiously _with her left hand_. Amused, he opened the door and sat beside her.

"I didn't know you're a lefty." He gave her his most winning smile.

"Yeah, 15 of the population, right." _She didn't even look up at me._

"Tough case?" She was clearly frustrated, running her right hand through her curls in a way that would have been even more gorgeous if she weren't so obviously discontented.

"Yeah, it's the, uh…washing machine…case. It just doesn't fit, Ryan." She threw her pen down and rested her chin in her hands.

"Mind if I take a look?"

"Be my guest. All the evidence fits together--the spatter on the walls, the knife we found is consistent with the vic's wounds, the shoe prints tell us that the victim was killed and dismembered in the kitchen, and dumped in the laundry room in the back. But one thing doesn't make sense to me."

"Which is?"

"I've seen a few cases with dismembered bodies, and in each one, it was done to hide the crime. Why go to the trouble of cutting up a body if you're just going to dump it in the…washing machine?" She cringed at the memory.

Ryan frowned. _She's right; this is tough._ "Alright. You just killed me in the kitchen. You hate me enough to cut up my body--not very neatly, but still--into small pieces. Then, you…throw me in the washer?"

"Exactly. Why would I do that?" She sighed. _We're never going to figure this out._

"Maybe you planned to. Maybe you were…interrupted?" _Easier said than proven._

"Wait…Ryan…you're a genius!"

"Huh?"

"I found a package at the scene. Someone signed for it an hour after the vic's T.O.D. and, as we all know--"

"Dead men don't sign for packages."

"Exactly. So I'm thinking the killer got interrupted by the FedEx guy, which made him nervous, which made him just ditch the body and run off."

"To the FedEx guy we go."

"Ryan…you're brilliant." She looked at her watch. "And you even wrapped it up in time for lunch!"

"Want to go grab some Mexican?" He asked her.

"Sorry, babe, I have to practise Tae Kwon Do. I have a class tonight and I don't want to get shown up by all the little kids."

"You do Tae Kwon Do? Man, I learn something new about you everyday." They were now walking in the direction of the locker room. "It's funny, because…I just so happen to be a black belt." He smiled at her proudly.

"No way! I just got mine! Want to practise with me?" _It's amazing how much we have in common._

"Oh, I don't know, Ben. I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't really like to fight girls." _Especially girls I'm falling for._

"Oh, come on, Ryan." She gave him the eyes. "I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll meet you in the gym in ten minutes."

"Ben!"

"Loser cooks dinner for a week. And you know I've picked up some tricks from Scott." _That'll get him. The best way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Or is it his wallet?_

Ryan sighed. "You're on. Gym in ten minutes."

"You just can't resist my charm, can you!"

_What have I gotten myself into?_

Half an hour later, Ryan Wolfe lay, winded, on a gym mat in the Department fitness centre. It had been a good match; they were both accomplished Tai Kwon Do fighters. But in the end, though he outweighed her by at least thirty pounds, Benny was faster, more agile, and knew how to use the weight she had to throw him down repeatedly.

"I'm out."

"I know." She gave him her hand to help him up. Overcoming the most basic male instinct of pride, he took it and stood up. They bowed to each other in traditional martial arts style, and walked together to the water fountain.

"You're pretty strong, though. You've got a mean Sitting Horse." She was referring to the defensive stance which allowed the fighter to bring up all the strength from their base and project it through their arms.

"Benny, you kicked my ass. And that's OK. I'm a secure man." She could tell from his tone and body language that he wasn't being passive aggressive. _I won, and he's alright with that. Talk about one in a million. _Before the elevator reached the sixth floor, she kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his skin just long enough for him to know that she did not respect him any less for having been beaten by a woman.

"I guess if I have to get beaten by a girl, it might as well be my girlfriend." He didn't even realize that he had used the word until a moment after it came out of his mouth and Benny looked at him in awe. They had not officially determined the status of their relationship, and for him to define it in explicit terms was unexpected, especially given the men she had experienced in her lifetime, the likes of whom enjoyed toying with her emotions by never quite expressing what was going on. But the doors of the elevator opened, forbidding her to inquire as to his use of the sacred word.

"Hey, Wolfe, how are you feeling?" _Dan Cooper, of all people. Dan Cooper is going to make fun of me for getting beaten by a girl. At least I know I can take him out. Probably._

"I'm fine, Cooper, I'm just looking for the results of my cell phone trace."

"Right. Here you go, Sensai." He laughed as he turned back to his computer screen.

_Laugh all you want; I'm cooking that girl dinner tonight.  
_


	4. Don't Forget to Say I Love You

"You know, this just may be the best vegetarian lasagne I've ever had." Benny said as she cut up the dish Ryan had cooked for dinner that night. 

"I'll have you know that I expect some serious bonus points for the lack of meat in this. Lasagne just isn't lasagne without a dead animal or two." Ryan joked, helping himself to a second serving. _A vegetarian. What an angel._

Benny looked up and they enjoyed a silent smile, and then a few minutes of silence as they ate.

"Oh yeah, I'm going to Victoria on Friday for my sister's wedding, and I won't be back until Sunday night. You want to do something special when I get home?"

Ryan smiled._ How do I tell her that everything we do together is special?_

"That sounds great. Your sister lives in Victoria?" _There are still so many details we don't know about each other; how do I feel that I know her so well?_

"Yeah, she went to UVic and met her fiancee there. They just never ended up leaving. So now I've got parents in Moose Jaw, a sister in Victoria, and a life in Miami." _And you're the best part about it._

"What time does your flight leave? We could do lunch or something on Friday." Ryan asked curiously.

"Flight leaves at 9:30, so I should be there by 7:30. We can do breakfast, if you're up to it." Her casual tone did nothing to hide her eagerness to spend time with him.

"If you stay here Thursday night, I can drop you at the airport after breakfast, then go to work from there." Together, Ryan and Ben could always accommodate one another to make plans work. No matter how busy they had been in the six months since they had started dating, they always found a way to spend time together. And when one of them just wasn't up to it, needed some alone time, the other was always understanding.

Benny smiled brightly, with the sincerity she saved just for Ryan, and nodded her agreement.

> > > > >

Benny rolled over in bed, and sat straight up. Something was wrong. She looked at the clock on Ryan's bedside table; it was 5:45 am. They didn't have to leave for another hour, but she could feel the familiar panic rising in her chest, the hopeless suffocation and anxiety: an attack.

She shook Ryan's shoulder. "Ryan. Ryan. Ryan!" She whispered loudly. _Soundest sleeper ever. _He muttered something sleepily, rolled over, opened one eye weakly.

"Hmm."

"I have to go home. Can you pick me up there at 7:00?" The feeling was growing. She had to get out of there. Had to pull all of her clothes out of the drawers, and fold and re-fold them until she felt sane. She had to vacuum every surface of her apartment until the suffocating panic dissipated and she felt whole enough to function. She had to bleach her shower, then scrub at her hands until the invisible dirt and filth left her alone.

"Huh?" Ryan was more awake now. What's going on? "What…what is it, babe?"

She breathed shakily. "I…I need to go to my apartment. I need to tidy up." She knew he would understand. In their time together, they had witnessed one or two of each other's O.C.D. attacks, and it was never in shame that they admitted the situation. Nevertheless, she could tell that Ryan was upset. _He just wants me to be happy and normal. He's not judging me. He's not judging me. It's OK. He understands._

He sighed. "OK. Do you want me to come with you?" He knew the answer was no; the last thing someone with O.C.D. wanted during an attack was someone watching. _But I have to ask._

"No. It's OK. See you at 7:00?"

"Alright. Are you going to be OK?" His concern was sincere but not over the top.

"Yeah. You know."

"Yeah."

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. The tone continued for over a minute, and then the machine picked up. "Hey, it's Ben. Either I'm not here, or I'm screening my calls. So leave me a message about why I shouldn't screen yours. Love ya!" And then the obnoxious beep that told Ryan to leave a message. He hung up without doing so, and gritted his teeth. It was 6:54, and that was the third time he had called to tell her he was coming to pick her up to take her to the airport. Sighing, he turned onto the highway in the direction of her apartment.

He had no way of knowing what he was about to find.

He pulled up outside of her building at 7:02 am. Stepping onto the sidewalk, he immediately knew that something was wrong. The Boston Red Sox hat and aviator sunglasses Benny had worn home that morning were lying on the ground a few feet from the door. Bending down, it took him a moment to realize what he was looking at: a bloody handprint.

_Oh my God. Oh my…oh my God. No._

He rang the buzzer to her apartment more times than he could count, and when she still didn't answer her cell phone, he did the only thing he could think of: speed dial, number 4.

_Pick up. Pick up. Please pick up. Oh my God. Pick up!_

"Hello."

"Yeah, Horatio, it's Wolfe. I've got a problem."

> > > > >

When Horatio's Hummer pulled up outside of Ben's building, Ryan was sitting in his car, looking at a picture of the two of them, taken at his favourite restaurant, La Paradiso, on his birthday. _She's in trouble somewhere. She's scared, and she's injured, and she may even be… _He wouldn't even let himself think it.

"Mr. Wolfe. What seems to be the emergency." Ryan hadn't even noticed Horatio walk up to the driver's seat and lean in through the window.

"It's Ben. I was supposed to drive her to the airport. She's not here, Horatio. And--" He led Horatio to the sidewalk where Ben's hat and sunglasses lay, unmoved, by the bloody handprint. "She's in trouble. We have to process this right now. We need everyone here, we need to send out an APB. Horatio, she's out there somewhere and--"

"I realize that, Mr. Wolfe," Horatio interrupted Ryan as his voice choked up. "But right now I need you to calm down and tell me exactly what happened."

Ryan took a deep breath. "And then we'll get everyone to look for her?" _Every second counts. He should know that!_

"Yes. I promise. Now can you tell me what happened?" Horatio's voice was calm, collected. Everything was going to be OK.

"Uh, yeah. I was going to take her to the airport. I was supposed to pick her up at, uh, 7:00." He stopped suddenly. He hadn't realized the implications of getting the team involved. _I won't tell him more than I have to in order to get Benny back._ "I, uh…I got here, and she wasn't answering her phones, or the door, and I saw her hat and glasses, and the blood." He was hyperventilating now, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Alright. And you're sure that the hat and glasses are hers."

"Yeah. That's what she was wearing. And, uh, grey sweatpants, and a white t-shirt. And running shoes." _Crap. Now he knows we were together. Oh well; I'd rather lose my job than Benny._

Ryan had just confirmed Horatio's suspicions; they had been together the night before. Deciding to go with the more pressing issue, he said, "OK. I'll make some calls and get everyone here. Do you have your kit?"

"Yeah, it's uh…it's in my car." Ryan frowned. _I should have started processing already._

The place was crawling with cops and CSI's within twenty minutes. Ryan was at the door to the building when Delko approached him.

"Hey. Where are we with this?" His look was one of genuine concern.

"Sent a sample of the blood on the sidewalk to the Lab. Same with this sample. Looks like someone did a face-plant."

"Ben?"

"It's possible, but…see the discolouration where the cheek and forehead hit the door? And the blood? Looks like a broken nose, but…Benny is 5'7". This print is…the person who made this is at least six feet tall."

"Well that can be good news. I'm going upstairs to check things out." Delko started to walk away. "Wolfe?"

Ryan looked up. "Yeah?"

"She's going to be fine. She kicked your ass, and this guy is walking around with at least a busted nose." He smiled. A peace offering.

> > > > >

After finishing up with the door, Ryan followed Eric upstairs. He was standing in the middle of the living room, looking confused.

"No signs of a struggle." Said Eric. "It looks like she cleaned up, then got attacked when she was heading out?" _Something doesn't fit._

"No." Ryan looked around. _The place looks clean to someone without OCD, but no way it would look like this after an attack._

He knew what the aftermath of an attack looked like; the smell of bleach and disinfectant, furniture moved so that it lined up to the nearest tenth of an inch, garbage bags taken out, the insides of the bins scrubbed clean.

"No. She never made it up here. He grabbed her when she got to the building." The skid marks leading away from the building indicated that he was headed into the industrial part of town. If they were from his car. Cooper was checking traffic cameras.

"How do you know? The place is clean, and she was going out of town. Looks like she tidied before leaving. And her bags aren't here."

_How do I tell him that I know she wasn't here because she was with me when she had the OCD attack, and her bags aren't here because they're in my car to go to the airport?_

But Ryan was spared having to explain himself to Delko, because at that moment, Calleigh entered.

"Hey, guys, I just spoke to Dan Cooper, and he's sending me some traffic camera footage right now to my laptop. Care to join?" Her smile was bright, and her tone optimistic, but there was no mistaking the concern in her eyes. They all knew that each passing second could mean Ben's life.

The pictures gave them a helpful lead and more dread than they could handle.

"OK, so this was taken from the camera at the lights two blocks from here, at New Street and Industrial Line, at 6:02 am. The camera is activated when a car trips a wire after the light turns red. Another shot is taken one second later, for positive identification of the vehicle." Calleigh explained quickly as she clicked on the received file. The first picture that appeared was of a cobalt blue Volkswagen Rabbit, with a white male, between the ages of twenty-five and thirty, driving. Someone was in the passenger seat with their head forward. The second picture was the same, but the identity of the passenger was revealed. Benny's head had rolled back between the two shots to reveal her unconscious face.

"Dan's running the plates right now. We're going to find this guy."

All Ryan could think was, _She was knocked out in a car, and I was getting back to sleep after having been woken up because of her OCD attack. I didn't even say I love you._


	5. Wasting Words on Hypotheticals

_It smells like…tires. Burning rubber? It's hot in here. And that sound…buzzing? I must be in the industrial part of town. Maybe an…oil refinery._

Benny was conscious for a minute or two before she opened her eyes. The attack was coming back to her in flashes.

She had gotten out of her car, and was fumbling with her keys at the door of the building when someone had come up behind her. He smiled of body odour and cigarettes.

"Move, and I'll kill you." It had been a man's voice.

_Man, my back hurts. What happened next? Oh, right…_

He had pressed her body into the door, but Benny was not about to go down easily. An accomplished Tae Kwon Do martial artist, she had used his weight against him by transferring the energy he was exerting onto her to push him against the door and twist his arm behind his back. She had pushed him, hard. His face and slammed against the metal door with the force of sledgehammer, his nose breaking in the act. He cried out, and then reached back with his free hand, and managed to plunge a homemade knife into her side. The wound hadn't been deep, but it was enough to surprise her into decreasing her force against him. She had reached back toward her stab wound, and that was when he pushed her down. Once again, her training came in useful, because she had long ago learned how to safely brace herself in a fall. She put her hands out to her sides to support the brunt of the punishment of her fall. But then he was on top of her, his hands around her neck, and then…she was waking up in this hot, foul-smelling room.

Her eyes fluttered open to reveal a small, dimly lit room. _Maybe a storage space._ The room was lit by a few flashlights in the corners. A tattered couch sat against one wall, with a man sleeping on it. That's the guy. I wonder how long it took for his nose to stop bleeding, she thought with some degree of satisfaction. The obsessive-compulsive part of her squirmed at the stacks of magazines, movies, and boxed heaped haphazardly around the room. The cop part of her thought of oil refineries in the area that also had storage spaces nearby. The part of her that was observant and always unaffected by external circumstances noticed with irritation the house fly that had just landed in her hair. She moved to swat it away, and found that her hands were bound with duct tape to the arms of the wooden chair she sat in, and her torso fastened to the back of the chair with a thick leather belt.

_The idiot didn't even think to restrain my legs._

_ > > > > > _

"Wolfe." Ryan picked up his cell phone after the first ring, eager and desperate for the slightest bit of insight on Benny's case. _Please let it be good news._

"Hey, it's Dan. I ran the plates of the car in the pictures, and the R.O. is a Neil Fulton? D.O.B. is March 4th, 1975. Moved to Miami five months ago from Boston, current address is on Madison Row. Works at an Italian Restaurant downtown. La Paradiso."

An alarm went off in Ryan's head. _Fulton moved to Miami only three months after Benny. He works at our favourite restaurant. He lives five blocks from her building._

"Give me the address. I'm finding this bastard today." Ryan's voice was shaky with anger and fear. This wasn't a random attack; it was starting to look like this guy had stalked Benny for a while before making his move.

> > > > >

"Mr. Fulton! MDPD, open up!" Frank Tripp yelled through the door of the small suburban house, his firearm drawn. No answer. Nodding to the SWAT officer, Frank moved back so that they could knock down the door. The house seemed ordinary when they first walked in; Ryan was taken aback by the normalcy of the place. He was soon corrected, however. The walls of the living room were covered--covered as in wallpaper--by pictures of Benny. Benny collecting evidence. Benny brushing her teeth. Benny getting into her car. Benny reading at the library. Benny running in the park. What's more, an entire wall was devoted to pictures of Benny and Ryan. Kissing, eating lunch, driving, going for walks, paying for movie tickets, shopping. The last five months of his life lay on a wall in front of him. It took a minute to absorb the gravity of the situation.

_The freak followed her from Boston. He's been watching her for five months._

He stepped into the bedroom, to find an even greater shock.

_He's been dumpster diving. Band-aid's, magazines, mail, old clothes, a face-cloth she threw out._

"Horatio!" Ryan's voice rang out through the still house.

"I'm here, Mr. Wol--" He was cut off mid-sentence by the sight he beheld. Several dozen--close to a hundred--items Ben had discarded lay on tables and desks in the bedroom, dated and labelled on yellow cards. "Well, it seems Mr. Fulton has taken on some voyeurism."

"Horatio, those pictures in there--"

"That's not important right now. Something in this house will tell us where he's keeping her. And we have to find it."

> > > > >

Just as she realized that her feet had not been bound to the chair, Benny's captor roused himself to consciousness on the couch. Sitting up, it took him a moment to notice her on the chair. He raised a hand to his nose and prodded it gently._ It must still be tender from the break. I really slammed his face into that door._

After a moment, he looked up at her and smiled. "You're up! I was worried there for a while. I didn't really want to put you out, but you were just fighting back so much--I didn't have a choice."

He was walking towards her--striding, really--as if he was on top of the world. He was actually enjoying himself!

"That's one thing that people like about you, though, Benny. You're a strong person. Decisive. You make the rules, right?"

_Does he want me to answer?_

"You decided to reject me all those years ago. You decided to drop the one class we had together. You decided to move hundreds of miles away, to Miami, of all places!"

A sick feeling crept up Benny's throat. She knew who he was now. She had been sixteen at the time, starting her second year at Harvard. He had asked her out, and she had politely declined. Due to a scheduling conflict, she had been forced to drop the class she had with him. They hadn't spoken since, and she realized that she hadn't even thought of him once until he had stabbed her. And even then, she didn't realize it was him. Nick, was it? No, that wasn't it. Kyle? No, that was the other creep who had asked her out around then. Neil! His name was Neil!

"But I stuck with you. I knew you were just being your regular, headstrong self. Always looking out for number one, right, Benny? Always watching your own back? Most people would have given up, but I hung in there. Sold my place, quit my job--I took a $9000 pay cut for you, Ben!--moved to Miami! And when I got here, what did I see?"

Benny never took her eyes off of him. _Let him talk. Let him say all the things he's wanted to tell me since I was sixteen, and in the meantime figure out a way to get out of here. What can I do in this position with just my legs? I need him to move in closer. Just a matter of time._

"In the three months we lived apart, you took a lover! That…Neanderthal you work with!" He laughed wryly. "I'm actually insulted, Ben, that you could go from me" He gesticulated wildly. "To that in only three months." He wrinkled his broken nose in disgust, as if he was personally offended by her romantic choice. "And not only that, but you completely cold shoulder me, even when I wait your table at your romantic anniversary dinner. In the four years we spent together in Boston, you never once let me take you out to a nice restaurant, but you, you," He seemed to be at a loss for words to express his frustration. "You whore, you stay over at this guy's house, and you've only known him six damn months!" He was practically spitting the words out in contempt, moving in on Benny, slowly approaching her where she sat, immobile but for her legs.

_Alright. Just another few feet._ Benny was surprisingly calm, now that it got down to it. It was do or die, and she had only herself to rely on. She knew what she had to do, and how she had to do it. It was just a matter of time.

_The idiot didn't even think to restrain my legs._

_ > > > > > _

"Damn it!" Ryan Wolfe scrubbed at his knuckles with the brush, hot water pouring down from the tap and scalding him. But it was a good pain. One step closer to clean.

_She's out there. With him. He's been following us for five damn months and neither of us ever noticed! He fought back tears. She's been gone ten hours, and I'm stuck here waiting for an IAB investigation to tell me I'm fired, and she's fired if she's alive._

"Hey, Ryan." It was Alexx. The beautiful medical examiner could be a little over-maternal at times, but she always meant the best. When Ryan had been having eye problems after taking a nail to the head, she had seen him and prescribed him antibiotics. They had come a long way since his first year at CSI, when she had cold shouldered him as he adopted one of Speed's old cases.

She walked over to the sink, looked at his hands, raw and bleeding slightly, and suppressed a gasp.

"It's going to be alright, baby. The Benny I know can take care of herself. We should be more worried about the safety of the guy who took her." She may have been right, of course; not only was Benny a black belt, she had motivation and drive like no one else they had ever known. She was tough as nails, and everyone knew it.

"Alexx, I…" He couldn't find words to express his worry. His impending IAB investigation was the least of his concerns. "I should have gone with her. None of this would be happening if I was a better…" The senseless anger flooded back, and he did the only thing that ever made him feel better again: he kept washing his hands.

"Ryan, that's not true, and you know it." Taking a towel from the rack above the sink, she took Ryan's hands in it and continued to dry them off. "None of this is your fault. We've got everyone working their best to find her, and you'll only make yourself sick by worrying about hypotheticals." She finished drying his hands, and inspected them for damage. He had really done a number on them this time. She had seen him and Benny after attacks before, their hands cracked from being washed excessively. But this was something else entirely. The majority of his skin was covered in deep scratches from the nail brush. This was a bad one.

They sat down on the bench and looked out the window to the beach, their conversation muted by a silence that was in no way awkward or content.

"I just keep thinking. She…she had to go home and clean. And I…I was too stupid to go with her. I should have known something was wrong. I just figured it was…flight anxiety." He laughed bitterly. "No self-respecting control-freak like us can stand the thought of being on an airplane."

There was silence for a moment, and then:

"Officer Wolfe, could you come with me, please." _Stetler. That bastard. Benny's out there having God knows what done to her, and he's here to make my life even more miserable._

"Right." Ryan got up and crossed the room to follow the asshole from IAB. Looking back, he forced a weak smile for Alexx. She was only trying to help.

_Poor baby. He's about to lose his job, at least._


	6. Just a Few More Feet

"Man, this is sick." Delko was documenting Fulton's apartment, and his unease increased with each photograph he took. 

"What is, the fact that this guy's been watching her…them…for several months, or the fact that Miami's best criminalists didn't notice?" It wasn't clear whether Calleigh was referring to their failure to notice the relationship blooming under their noses, or Ryan and Ben's failure to realize that they were being watched.

Eric picked up a tissue off of the table and read the card aloud: "June 7th. Someone hasn't been taking her antihistamines." He looked up at Calleigh, lines of worry etched across his face. He then began the lengthy task of taking the pictures down off of the walls. It was a minute or two before he realized what he was looking at.

"Cal…Calleigh, I think you should see this." He called out in a weak voice.

"Yes?" She came into the living room from the bedroom where she had been documenting the items Fulton had "borrowed" from Benny.

"He labels the pictures." Eric held up a shot of Ben getting opening the door to her car and read out the caption Fulton had written on the back in blue marker: "It seems like only yesterday Scott drove her to the DMV to get her license."

Calleigh and Eric exchanged a meaningful glance, and started pulling more pictures down from the walls.

"Celebrating her eighteenth birthday."

"Can't sleep on May 4th. Worried about exams?"

"My girl, late for her first day of work."

"Calleigh." Eric's voice was hard and even, but with an unmistakeable tone of alarm. She crossed the room to look at the picture he held in his hands. Ryan and Benny were sitting on a towel at the beach, a picnic set out before them. They were locked in a passionate embrace, their arms wrapped around one another, kissing as if it was the only thing to do. Eric turned the picture over to show Calleigh the written inscription in Fulton's recognizable writing:

"He'll regret the day I get him alone."

> > > > >

"Could you please describe your relationship with one Benjamin Wallace?" Stetler looked straight ahead at Ryan, the coolness of his voice betrayed by the hatred in his eyes. He had it in for all of them.

"It's a good one." Said Ryan, trying hard to stay calm. _Don't give him the satisfaction of upsetting you._

"Good? As, what? Co-workers? Friends?" Stetler raised a malicious eyebrow. "Lovers?"

Ryan's face burned hot. _They all know. They all know and they're all laughing._ Nonetheless, he kept his voice even as he replied. "We date." _Keep it simple. Don't say any more than you need to._

"Do you know a…" Stetler shuffled through his papers. "Marjorie Black?"

_Why does that name ring a bell? Oh yeah…_

"Uh, she lives down the hall from me." _What does Marjorie have to do with this?_

Stetler nodded thoughtfully. "She said that this morning she saw Ms. Wallace leaving your apartment around 5:45, and she seemed," He looked at his papers. "quote, 'very upset and distraught'. Could you explain that?"

Ryan swallowed. He had done his time on patrol. He knew where this was going. "Ben--Ms. Wallace is OCD. She was upset because she was having an attack." _Short and sweet. Short and sweet._

Stetler looked at him sceptically. "But you can see how it looks when your, ahem, lover, runs out of your apartment near tears, and an hour later, no one can find her."

Ryan counted back from ten before he responded, in a shaky tone, "Am I being accused of something here?"

Stetler's face reflected how taken aback he was. "I didn't say that, Wolfe. Guilty conscience?"

"I'm just wondering what I'm doing here, getting interrogated like a criminal, when Benny's out there somewhere, and I could be helping to find her!" He willed the tears from spilling out of his eyes. He stood up and his chair threatened to fall back at the sudden movement. There was an intense moment as he glared at Stetler, fuming, and then:

"Sit down, Wolfe, no one's accusing you of anything."

"It doesn't feel that way."

"Why don't you just give me the details as to your relationship with Ms. Wallace, and then we can both be out of here." His tone was coated with malevolence and wicked intent.

Ryan sighed. "We've been dating for about six months now. And in answer to your next question, we didn't tell anyone at work because we didn't want to give them any reason to doubt our professionalism."

Stetler frowned in that way he had that said, _I've got you now. You're caught._ "Why would they doubt your professionalism?"

Ryan bit his lip anxiously and looked at the clock. _She's been gone almost eleven hours._ "We're the youngest employees at the lab, and I replaced--" He cut himself off. _Don't go there._

"Sorry, I didn't get that. Could you please repeat that?" Stetler knew what he meant, but he was going to make good and sure he had recorded on the obnoxious tape he set on the table.

"CSI Speedle. I replaced Speedle and I know how unpopular that makes me." It felt so good to say it aloud. The past few years of constant anxiety, of guilt and worry, melted away in that moment that he voiced his pain out loud.

"Other CSI's have made you feel uncomfortable at work?" Stetler had found a thread, and by God, he was going to run with it.

"No, this is a great work environment. But the guy who replaces everyone's dead best friend isn't exactly on your Christmas card list. And Benny is only twenty-one. There are already a lot of reasons to doubt us, without everyone knowing that we're…" He exhaled loudly. "Involved."

Stetler mulled it over as he wrote down a few things in the manila folder in front of him.

"Well, you're both effective criminalists; the relationship doesn't seem to have effected your work in any way. However, I'm going to recommend that you get taken off of her case. Bias, you know."

Neither of them spoke, and then, having been assumedly dismissed, Ryan walked away. _Like hell I'm not going to help out._

"And, Wolfe," called out Stetler as Ryan opened the door. "In the best interest of both of your careers, I would suggest you end the relationship if you find her."

Ryan just looked at him for a moment, and then, almost inaudibly:

"Not if. When we find her."

> > > > >

_Just another couple feet. Should I go for the trachea? No, I won't manage a kick that high as long as I'm sitting down. Groin? If he lets me in close enough. Shin, maybe._

Benny was coldly calculating the best move to make for when her abductor finally reached her. She was only vaguely aware of his typical villain monologue as he approached the chair to which she was -- somewhat ineffectively -- restrained. _Someone's seen way too many action films._

"You know, Ben, you're really lucky to have a guy like me. Even when you really tried my patience, I was always there for you. And I know we can work this out, if you just give me the damn opportunity!" Benny gasped as he reached into his pocket. _I'm not ready to defend myself. _But surprisingly, he drew a cell phone.

_When did he get my cell phone?_

"I hope you don't mind that I borrowed it. You were out cold at the time--" He laughed. "So I couldn't exactly ask." He punched two keys and held the phone to Ben's face. Had she not seen, in that split second as the phone approached her face, the name on the screen, she would not have known who would pick up.

> > > > >

Ryan walked into the living room to process with Calleigh and Eric and got the immediate impression that they had been talking about him. They looked up in alarm as he entered, their cameras poised in the air. 

"Ryan. I…I didn't think you'd come." Breathed Calleigh.

He looked from Calleigh, to Eric, and back to Calleigh, suspicion reigning. "Yeah, I was told not to participate but…I can't just stand by and watch. Find anything that might lead us to where she's being held?" He tried to look at the case objectively, pretended he didn't know the victim. But the pictures around the room reminded him otherwise. Benny's slate-blue eyes, her deep brown curls, her adorable dimples…_she'll never be just another victim._

Eric regained his composure and began filling Ryan in on the details of Neil Fulton's home. He didn't keep a lot of furniture, not a lot of material possessions…the lack of food in the cupboards led them to believe that he wasn't much of a cook, and mostly ate at restaurants and fast-food joints. The only thing he seemed to care about was Benny. Following her, watching her, analyzing the details of her life…

"And, uh, Ryan, there's some stuff here about you." Said Eric, unsure of how to break the news.

"Yeah, I expect there would be." Ryan was unable to make contact with his co-workers.

"Ryan, why wouldn't you tell us that you two were involved? You could be crucial in finding her." Calleigh's expression was one of pure concern. It was clear that she was not judging Ryan's relationship with Ben; she was worried that they had overlooked vital evidence.

Ryan bowed his head. _I never thought things would go this way._ "I…we thought it would be better if we were…discreet." Without making eye contact with either one of his coworkers, he picked up his camera and continued to take pictures of the photographs Fulton had taken. Ryan and Benny jogging together at the beach. Ryan picking Benny up from her apartment a few months back. The memories flooded back to him with each picture he took.

_She needs to be OK. I need her to be OK._

He picked up his kit and headed into the bedroom, but at that moment, his cell phone rang. Instinctively, he checked the caller ID, and it took a moment for him to appreciate what he saw on the micro screen: _Benny's cell._

> > > > >

One ring. Two rings. _Damn it, Ryan, pick up the phone! _Three rings.

Click. "H-Hello?" Ryan's voice sounded like it was a million miles away. For the barriers that stood between them, he might as well have been.

"Ryan. His name is Fulton. Neil Fulton. He's got me in some sort of storage space. He hasn't given any ransom dem--" Benny's voice was cut off mid-sentence as Fulton pulled the phone away. He had been holding it up to her ear, hoping to increase the sense of power and control he was having. He loved knowing that he was causing this riot, this insanity, this incredible fear. He had seen Ryan and Benny together numerous times, and now he wanted to speak to the ass himself. The guy who had ruined everything.

"Benny! Ben!" Ryan was practically shrieking into the phone now, his voice coming out in near-sobs. When she had cut out, he had instantly feared the worst. Torture? Rape? Murder? He barely dared to wonder.

"Ryan Wolfe. A pleasure to finally speak to you." Fulton's voice was calm, solid. Cold. Almost completely devoid of any emotion, but for the underlying tone of malice. Pure, unadulterated hatred.

Ryan was quick to jump at the opportunity to learn about Benny's abductor. "What do you want? Money?" He actually wondered if it would be worth the time to ask him where she was being held.

Fulton laughed. He actually laughed into the phone, genuinely humoured by the situation. "Oh no, money is no good to me. Not where I'm going. Finally a vacation Benny and I can enjoy together. Say goodbye, Ryan."

"Wait!"

"No goodbye? You'll dearly regret that."

And then the line went dead.

> > > > >

Ryan collapsed onto the chair behind him. He stared ahead blankly. _It's all over. He's actually going to kill her._ He didn't speak for a long time, and was only dimly aware that Eric and Calleigh were around him, asking him questions frantically, trying desperately to get his attention. He looked at them in vague interest, and felt a quiet calm fall over him.

_How nice it must be not to have been a part of that conversation._

Eric slapped him harshly across the back of his head. "Wolfe! Who was that! Where is she? Wolfe!" He was becoming increasingly angry. _Just like Wolfe to break down at a crucial point in his girlfriend's case._

Calleigh was taking a more compassionate approach. She knelt in front of Ryan, and in a calm, soothing tone, gently urged him to fill them in, her hand softly stroking his arm.

"Ryan, you have to tell us what she said. Ryan, are you listening?"

It was like he was watching a movie. He was in a daze and the world was spinning around him. And they were running out of time.

Calleigh and Eric were still calling to him, trying to get him to open up, when it all came rushing back to him. It struck him hard in the face, and he found himself struggling to breathe.

"She's in a storage space. I heard humming in the background." He lifted himself from the chair, and moved quickly across the room to the front door. "Industrial district, maybe." He opened the front door to step outside.

"Ryan! Where are you going?" Calleigh's expression was flabbergasted, to say the least.

"I have to find her. Now."

> > > > >

Benny could hear Ryan yelling through the phone as Fulton made to hang up.

"No goodbye? You'll dearly regret that." Maybe it was his tone, the finality of it, the sheer, cold hardness of it, but for the first time, Benny was filled with fear for her life. She had never been in a life-or-death situation before, and with Fulton's last words as he hung up the phone, she feared for the first time that she was going to die at the age of twenty-one. The life she had had did not flash through her eyes; rather it was the life she would not have the opportunity to have that haunted her in those moments.

_I'll never get married. Have children. Never get my Ph.D. Never run a marathon. _Her eyes were welling up. _Never travel Europe. Never win a Nobel Prize._

Fulton was slowly closing in on her, his eyes locked on hers. The look of commitment on his face sent a chill up her spine. He was moving in for the kill. From his jacket he drew the shank he had used to subdue her outside of her apartment building that morning.

_I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm going to die._

> > > > >

"Mr. Wolfe." For all the panic and insanity in his immediate environment, you had to love that Horatio sounded as cool and collected as ever. Serious, as always, maybe even concerned. But never afraid.

_Everything's going to be OK._

"Yeah, I'm cruising around the industrial district. Got a call from Ben and Fulton. She said he's keeping her in a storage space. I heard humming in the background. Like power lines, maybe." Ryan's voice was shaky and barely audible over the sound of the siren in his Hummer as he sped down the street.

"Alright, I'll get Dan to compile a map marking the storage spaces in the industrial district." Said Horatio as he walked down the hallway of headquarters. Dan Cooper was sitting at his desk, staring at a series of computer monitors, analyzing and comparing video footage.

"OK call me when you know anything." Ryan's desperation bled into his voice.

"Will do."

"And Horatio?"

"Yes?"

"Hurry."

> > > > >

_Never go bungee-jumping. Never go on a blind date. Never write a cookbook._

Fulton's eyes were set. This was it. He was committed to this plan; she was his for the taking.

Benny had taken courses on forensic psychology. She was a nerd through and through and genuinely enjoyed reading. So she had learned -- on more than one occasion -- of the theory of "Dead Man's Resolve". Most commonly seen in soldiers as they run to their deaths in a battle at which they are grossly outnumbered, the theory indicated that, when faced with death, many humans will give up and temporarily forget their mortality. They indulge in coup de grace. They let go and go down fighting. However, as this phenomenon occurred to Benjamin Wallace, she did not realize that she was further perpetuating this theory, further proving it true. All she knew was that there was no chance in hell she was going to die without a resistance.

_This guy is leaving here with more than a broken nose._

Fulton was only a foot away now, the shank held out before him. First, Ben tipped the chair back onto its two hind legs, to facilitate the kick she accurately aimed to his forearm. The inside of her foot collided with his wrist with force unanticipated by her attacker. Out of pure shock, perhaps, Fulton dropped the shank, and it flew several feet through the air before hitting the ground and sliding across the concrete floor.

Benny did not even permit herself the luxury of thought as she made her next move. She was in the zone, fighting for her life, though she had no real hopes for survival.

As Fulton instinctively leaned down slightly in the split second after she had kicked the knife from his hand, she gauged the distance and aimed another kick -- this one leading with the toe -- to his groin. He doubled over, screaming in agony. She had never kicked that hard in her life. And she had been right on with her aim.

Fulton was on his knees now, tears streaming down his face, his complexion similar to that of a ripened tomato. Benny, a trained fighter, seized the opportunity. In the smallest fraction of a second, she brought up her left leg, in a curved motion, and smashed her heel into his jaw. Almost instantly, blood spurted from his mouth and onto Benny's knees. He spat out a few teeth, spurting red all around him.

Painfully injured, though not lethally, Fulton lay on the ground sobbing. But Benny was no fool; she knew that it was only a matter of a few minutes -- at most -- before he recovered and took her life. She couldn't kill him, not restrained as she was, but the dental bills she had caused him just might do the trick.

The entire exchange took less than five seconds.


	7. I Can't Get No Satisfaction

Ryan watched grimly as the speedometer continued to increase. He was up to 100 miles an hour.

_Good thing there's no traffic around here. _

With the aid of a map and a trace on Ryan's incoming calls, Dan and Horatio had managed to pinpoint Benny's location. Ryan had been right; she was being held in a rarely-used storage area near an oil refinery across town. As Ryan sped over, Delko had run a check on Fulton's credit card and confirmed: he had been renting the storage space for about a month and a half.

_Please don't let me be too late. _Ryan Wolfe was not a religious man, but in that moment, he begged God to forgive him his sins and allow him the survival of the only girl he had been able to think about for six months.

_Greenway, Greenway, Greenway… _Ryan's eyes scanned the streets for the sign that indicated the storage space where Benny was being held.

_Greenway! _There it was, just a dilapidated paved driveway with a faded orange sign reading "Greenway Storage Facilities". A few shrubs provided weak cover for the fifty or so units, one of which held the woman he loved. He turned sharply into the drive and halted to a stop outside the first unit. Hoping to surprise Fulton, he had turned off his siren when he had gotten the call from Horatio, and proceeded silently with his flashers on the remaining few blocks to the storage facility. Now he quietly opened his door and squinted into the Miami sunlight. He drew his weapon and searched for unit number 717.

_704...708...710...Damnit these are only the even-number units. There must be another row of them behind. _

He walked cautiously between units 710 and 712, to find himself facing unit 713.

_Good. _He grimly nodded his head in satisfaction and, his back to the hind walls of the units behind him, stalked quietly along the row until he was looking at the large garage-door style entrance to unit 717. The steel door was down, but through a tiny crack in the bottom, he saw a pale glow.

_These places don't have electricity. He must have brought a light. They're in there. _

Straining to hear the slightest sound from inside, Ryan pressed his side to the wall of the unit, his ear against the door. At first he heard nothing, and then:

_Is someone crying? _Ryan was confused. It was a man's voice who created this sound, based on the masculinity of the cries.

_Why is he crying? _Ryan did not dare to imagine that Benny had control of the situation, did not dare to believe that everything was going to be alright. But at the same time, he felt a strange sense of relief wash over him, until the male voice changed into a loud cry of anger.

"You BITCH! I'll KILL you!"

_Now! _Ryan Wolfe knew that he had to act. Wedging his fingers in the crack between the bottom of the door and the ground, he thrust it open and ran into the storage unit. Shocked and genuinely surprised, Fulton turned around from his position a few feet in front of Benny. His expression was one of pure confusion: he truly had not anticipated that he and Benny would be found before he had the opportunity to kill them both.

"Miami-Dade Police. Drop your weapon and lie on the floor, NOW!" Ryan could feel beads of sweat running down the side of his face and his back, but he resisted the urge to wipe them away and kept both of his hands on his gun.

For a single long moment, Fulton and Ryan just stared at each other, their eyes locked, neither of them more determined than the other not to fail.

"Drop. Your. Weapon." Ryan moved in slowly, just a few inches, his gun pointed directly at Fulton. The only sound was the ragged breathing of three very nervous, anxious people.

Suddenly, Fulton lunged at Ben, his shank coming dangerously close to her carotid artery. But years on patrol had granted Ryan reflexes unanticipated by a half-wit criminal such as Fulton. Ryan fired three times, not knowing whether he was shooting to kill or maim. The question was whether he would rather have Fulton rot in jail, or the ground. Nonetheless, his aim was accurate, and the bullets grazed Fulton's shoulder, lodged in his side, and drove into his upper thigh. He fell to the ground, shank in hand, and lay on the concrete floor, bleeding profusely.

Ryan ran over to him and, after kicking the knife from his hand, grabbed his own pocket knife and cut the bonds that held Ben. He grabbed her waist and rushed her outside, where they could better hear the sirens of the approaching police cars.

_Not long now. It's all over. _Keeping an eye on Fulton, Ryan wrapped Ben in a tight embrace, his arms locked around her waist as he lifted her from the ground. They would have stayed like that forever, had the police not arrived a few minutes later and squealed to a stop outside the unit. The officers raced in, patted down Fulton, and dragged him out in handcuffs. Horatio walked purposefully up to Ryan and Benny where they stood, and looked at them long and hard for a moment before he spoke.

"Good work, Wolfe. How about you get Ms. Wallace to the hospital now." He spoke the words softly, but they were undoubtedly a command.

"Oh, Horatio, I'm fine." She laughed painfully. "I think Fulton's the one who needs a doctor." She watched as the police loaded him into the jail infirmary-bound ambulance.

Horatio raised an eyebrow. "That laceration on your back begs to differ." Benny put a hand back to feel the stab wound she had earned so many hours before. The blood had crusted around the hole in her shirt, and she realized for the first time the excruciating pain shooting through her body. Suddenly tired, she leaned against Ryan and closed her eyes as she nodded slightly in agreement.

"Maybe I could see a doctor," She mumbled.

> > > > > >

"Alright, Cooper, _now_ I need you to show me my footage from the ATM camera at Mayville and Brant." Benny had been hovering around the A/V lab for the past few hours, waiting for Dan to have a free moment to help her. She had been feeling restless and impatient lately, mostly due to her near-death encounter with Neil Fulton only three months prior.

"Right…and here we are." Cooper hit a few keys, bringing to the screens the footage taken from the automatic teller machine downtown. "Looks like your vic took out some money at around noon. Other than that…" Dan always felt bad when he couldn't help much.

"No, wait…can you enlarge that car in the background?" Benny pointed to the blue BMW behind the subject.

"Yup…just a sec…" Dan moved the cursor over the screen, enlarging the passenger window of the car in question. "Hey, isn't that--"

"It sure is! Thanks, Coop." _Another case solved. _Nothing felt better.

"Hey, Ben?" Cooper turned to look at her as he spoke.

Benny was looking through her case folder, and barely noticed Cooper's sudden attentiveness. "Yeah?"

"How's it…how's it going with the…case against Fulton?" He had heard, as most people at the lab had, that Fulton was pleading not guilty by reason of mental disorder, and the case was looking good for him.

Ben looked up, her eyes sad, longing. "It's going." She said shortly.

"How's Wolfe holding up?"

_What a gossip. _"He's fine." She thought for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

Dan just shrugged. "You know…I had heard about the IAB investigation and everything. Apparently they're breathing down his back pretty bad."

Benny raised an eyebrow. "Really now?"

"Oh yeah, apparently the guy is claiming assault."

Benny's heart did a double-take. "How is that even possible!"

Cooper looked up at her, surprise registering on his face as he noticed her aggressive tone and body language. "Well cops are supposed to shoot to kill. Not torture. Dude says he was already down when Wolfe started shooting at him."

> > > > > >

"Hey, there's my favourite girl." Ryan called out to Benny as she approached him in the hallway. Noticing her disgruntled expression, he decided to change gears. "What's wrong?" They were only feet from each other at this point, and he genuinely feared that she was about to strike out at him.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Her bright blue eyes glared into him, inspecting him, probing him, interrogating him. _Damn those eyes. _

When Ryan didn't respond, she pressed further. "Don't you think I deserve to know these things? God, Ryan…" she said, pulling him into the nearby break room. Once inside, she continued to ostracise him. "Whatever happened to telling each other everything?"

By this point, Ryan had a fairly certain idea as to the basis of the interrogation. "You mean Stetler." he said, lowering his eyes in shame.

"Yes, Ryan, Stetler. You've been facing investigation and penalization for three months, and it never occurred to you to tell me? Believe it or not, the situation involves me, too." Her words were harsh, but her tone milder than before. Her love of Ryan had overcome her anger and frustration…and embarrassment that it was she who had earned him this professional difficulty. "I just…" She placed a gentle hand on his hip. "I don't want you to get in trouble for me." She moved in closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso. But the embrace with which he met her was cold and empty. Neither spoke for several long minutes.

"I think we should cool it for a while." Ryan's voice was barely audible, his words muffled through his nearly clenched teeth. It took all of his effort not to break down. It was a long time before Ben realized the implication of his words.

"What, like…break up?" She pulled away from him, tears standing in her eyes. "Because of IAB? Come on, Ryan, it's not that bad." Panic and desperation crept into her voice as she silently begged him not to do the unthinkable.

"It's not that simple, Ben. I've made too many professional mistakes involving women while I've been here. Everyone's sensitive about the relationships here because of the whole--" He sighed, remembering his short-lived relationship with Natalia Boa Vista "Mole, thing. I really care about you, it's just…I just…" He trailed off in thought as he raised his eyes to meet Benny's. They were as cold and empty as his embrace.

"You care about your job more. Fine." She turned quickly on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving Ryan wondering if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

> > > > > >

_I won't cry. I won't cry. I don't care. I don't care. I'm better off alone. I hate him. I hate him. _

She was seated in the passenger seat of Eric's Hummer, on their way to a crime scene. It had been almost ten months since she had moved to Miami; nine months since she had started dating Ryan; three months since she had been abducted; twenty minutes since she had had her heart broken.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Eric glanced over at his passenger, his heart going out to her. News travels fast in a culture like the Crime Lab, and he had heard just before leaving that Benny and Ryan had broken up. Initially, he had considered giving Ryan a lecture on the perils of ruining relationships; he had then realized that Benny, the attractive new criminalist from the North, would be on the rebound. And he was working a case with her.

She sighed and contemplated for a moment longer before answering. "It's nothing. You know. Stupid things."

"Oh, come on, Ben," Eric reached over and placed a comforting hand on her knee. "You know you can spill, right?"

She made her best attempt at a laugh, and then shrugged. "Just Ryan things."

Eric nodded. "Synonymous with 'stupid things', right?"

This time Benny genuinely laughed. "You've got that right. I mean, I knew that some guys cared more about their jobs than their girlfriends--" She cut herself off for a moment, realizing that she no longer had claim on that title. "Ex-girlfriends. But, I mean…what was the worst that could happen? He was just too chicken shit to tell me the real reason." She shrugged again, attempting to appear casual. "Whatever. His loss."

Eric flashed her a beautiful grin, hoping to get the same from her, but to no avail. "You're right it's his loss. But, you know…" He didn't know how to go about defending Wolfe to her. It was a sensitive position. "He kinda has reason to be cautious of what he does. I mean, there was the Erica Sykes thing--"

"Erica Sykes?"

"He never told you about that?" _Bad call, Eric. Why did I bring that up! _"Some reporter chick he dated for a while. She got him in some trouble."

"Made him a source?" Ben was obviously enjoying the mental image of Ryan in a tight spot.

"Yeah, something like that. Then he dated the mole, too." Eric hesitated. _He wasn't the only one._ "He wasn't the only one who did, but you know…I guess to some people it might make sense that he doesn't want to be involved with a colleague."

A single glare from Benny straightened him out. "But still, you're not a reporter or a mole…he's an idiot to let you get away."

> > > > > >

The scent of pine and gingerbread evoked painfully reminiscent memories that made Benjamin long for cold, snowy winters in front of a roaring fire, the power having long since gone out, playing Scrabble with her sister by candlelight.

It was nearing Christmas, and Benjamin Wallace was agonizingly homesick. The look on her face as she exited the lab's elevator must have tipped off her co-worker, for Calleigh immediately grabbed Ben's arm and lead her toward the morgue.

"How ya doin', Ben?" She drawled in her adorable Louisiana accent.

_What I wouldn't do for an accent like that. She's probably never been made fun of for saying, "Oot and aboot". _

"Oh, you know…keeping it together." She didn't pretend not to know that Calleigh had undoubtedly heard about her break-up with Ryan only three days prior. She acknowledged that it was a commonly known fact around the lab; Horatio had failed to pair them together three days running, a first in her ten months at the lab.

"Don't let him get to you. He only _wishes_ he was worth your time."

"Who does?" Asked Alexx as the women entered the morgue. Alexx had just finished stitching up the Y-incision on a middle-aged man, and was now closing him into the confined surgical space of the mortician drawers.

With an approving look from Benny, Calleigh continued. "Ryan. Apparently he's not husband material like we thought." She felt bad, openly criticizing a friend and colleague, but before being a CSI, she was a woman, and she refused to let Ben suffer in silence.

_God knows we've all been there. Ryan, Hagen, it's all the same. _

"Aww, baby!" Alexx enclosed Ben into a tight hug, and released her with a pat on the back. "Calleigh's right, though; any man who doesn't appreciate you for the wonderful things you have to offer is not worth the time it takes to say his name. You're better than that, baby." It was an order, not a statement of pity. She had no doubt that Ben would be just fine.

Alexx thought back to the day of Benny's abduction, when Ryan had scrubbed his hands raw with worry. _I really thought he loved her, too. _She looked at Benny sadly, but still without pity, then turned to the examination table upon which lay a teenage corpse.

"Poor baby. ID'd him today. Oliver Trent. Nineteen years old." She ran an affectionate hand across his cheek, then looked up. "Must really ruin Christmas for his parents."

"It's already ruined by the weather." Mumbled Benny absently.

"What's that?" Calleigh smiled sympathetically. _You mean it's ruined by Ryan. _

Ben hadn't expected anyone to hear. "Nothing. I just don't see how anyone gets excited for Christmas around here. It just isn't festive when it's a hundred degrees and humid." She shrugged, an action that had become all-too common on her lately. "I guess you can't take the Canada out of the girl." She faked a smile.

> > > > > >

"Any plans for Christmas, Ben?" Ryan tried to sound casual and nonchalant as he walked into the evidence locker. _Who would think it could be so hard to be friends with an ex?_

Benny looked up from her forensic journal, pretending she hadn't noticed him walk in, when she was in reality painfully aware of everything he did. _I guess you can't take the love out of the girl. _"I'm a little broke to fly home, so I'll probably just hang out with Scott or something." She made no effort to pursue the conversation, because she hated him as much as she loved him, and had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing her put energy into a conversation with him. Sensing this, Ryan continued.

"You're probably better off that way." He laughed at his joke, and, getting no reaction from Benny, went on. "I'm going up to Boston for a few days. And you know my Mom will feed me to bursting point the entire time. Jewish maternal instincts." Earning not even a smile from Benny, he tried a more pragmatic approach. "How long is this going to go on, Ben?"

She looked up casually, staring into his eyes with her own sad ones. "What?"

"This silent treatment. I don't want to lose your friendship just because…" He was at a loss for words. "This" he motioned between the two of them "Didn't work out. I'm sorry, Benny, but I just don't think I deserve this kind of punishment."

Her eyes were dull as they peered at him, empty and longing. "I'm not doing anything. I treat you like I would treat anyone else." It was a bald-faced lie, and they both knew it, but Ryan retreated under her gaze, and ducked his head.

"Okay, I'll leave you alone." It was the last thing she wanted him to do, but she made no effort to stop him from leaving the evidence locker where she was left sitting alone.

> > > > > >

"Ryan! Come here and eat something, baby, you look like a skeleton!" _Yeah, if you subtract the hundreds of carbs I've been loading on for two straight weeks. _

Ryan Wolfe could weigh a thousand pounds and his mother would still accuse him of malnutrition. He stood in the doorway of his parents' Boston home, suitcase in hand, as he was assaulted by a large group of women. Four sisters, six aunts, three nieces, two grandmothers, and, of course, his own mother, all grabbing at his newly-acquired love handles, prodding him in search of hunger.

Laughing, he stepped into the warmth of the living room, dropping his shoes, coat, and suitcase in the front hall. Big mistake.

"Ryan Wolfe, you leave my home for two months and now, what, you forget your manners? You bring your things to your room, silly boy!" His mother smacked his bottom lightly as he headed up the stairs. "And wash up for dinner! Comb that hair of yours!" To his aunts, she said, "The boy refuses to get a decent haircut. Every time I see him, he has hair like some sort of crazy man!"

Retreating to the warm familiarity of his old bedroom, Ryan collapsed onto the bed, hoping for a few minutes of quiet before the insanity of a huge Jewish family set in. He loved them more than most grown men would admit they loved their families, but they were a tiring bunch. He closed his eyes, his face pressed against the argyle comforter under which he had spent so many nights as a child and youth.

Ryan awoke an hour later to find himself tucked under the comforter, a glass of cider on the bedside table, and fat snowflakes falling outside his window. _It's good to be home. _He also noticed that his hair had been neatly combed to the side, the way his mother liked it. _"If it has to be long, let it be neat!" Oh, mother. _

After making his bed and neatly folding his clothes into their respective drawers, Ryan headed downstairs to check out the action. He faced a multitude of his extended family members, sitting with cups of cider and other hot beverages, discussing their memories together. It was tradition in his family that, once the children had been put to bed, the adults reminisce. It was never made an official tradition; it was just a habit that tended to repeat itself, year after year. And Ryan, being completely routine-oriented, loved every moment of it.

"Ah! There he is!" Called out his aunt Linda, beckoning to him. His family looked up at him with genuine smiles as he climbed down the stairs.

"I was just telling them about the way you used to unplug all the appliances when you were just a boy." Another tradition was to lovingly jest at Ryan's obsessive-compulsive tendencies, none of which his disorganized and absent-minded family could ever completely understand.

"Funny, I was just thinking about the way you used to leave them on!" Was his witty retort, containing little--but still present--truth. His mother was renowned for forgetting things, leaving curling irons on, and even leaving the house wearing mismatched shoes.

Ryan's response was met with raucous laughter from the family as he eased himself onto a chair borrowed from the kitchen table.

"Will you look at this boy, thinner every time I see him and still not with a ring on his finger!" Sang out his father's sister, Gloria. In addition to his obsessive compulsion, he was being increasing chided every year for the lack of marital bliss in his life. He had four sisters, all of whom had married in their early twenties and had multiple children. _And here I am, twenty-seven and unwed. So sue me. _

"Yeah, Ry, when were you thinking of getting on that? Any lucky ladies in mind?" Asked his sister, Melissa, smiling at him in a secret way that said, _Haha, gotcha_.

All eyes were on Ryan as he laughed, replying, "Yeah, I'll have to get on that. Maybe put an ad in the paper, you know, scope out the Classifieds." His sarcasm went unnoticed by many of the senior family members, such as his Uncle Sport.

"I don't know, boy, the girls these days are not as they used to be. Dancing to their music, and wearing those…" He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Clothes. Not like they used to be at all."

The younger generation snickered secretly at the outdated nature of his response, struggling not to laugh out loud and offend the senior man.

Ryan loved coming home for just this reason: the casual banter of the relatives as they playfully chided one another, joking and talking as easily as they breathed. He was usually a nervous person, trying so hard to please people that he forwent his own pride in pursuit of his goals. He had known such easy conversation with only one other person in his lifetime.

_Benny. _


	8. Choking on Poisonous Smoke

She plunged her fork into the Tofurkey, not quite having the heart to take the energy to actually eat the meal. _Maybe this is the reason I've lost so much weight; it's hard to maintain body fat when you never feel like eating. _

"Honey, I know it's not fabulous but you could try and put some meat on those bones." chided Scott amicably. He had seen Benny upset before, but never had he witnessed her too unhappy to devour his famous "Tofurkey Delight".

"I'm sorry, Scott. I know how much trouble you went to, coming to see me and spending Christmas…" She sighed sadly. "Here."

"What, not a fan of Miami? Trust me, doll, it's better than the four feet of snow in Montreal." He meant it as a joke, but he could detect her sadness as she regarded her surroundings. "Oh come on, cheer up! It's Christmas Eve!" When she only looked up at him with a sad attempt at a smile, he pressed on. "OK, so what's bothering you so much that you refuse to inhale this meal I've so generously prepared?"

Knowing that his words were intended in kindness, Ben responded. "Just homesick, I guess. I mean, it's just not the same here." She thought for a moment. "I miss having frozen toes. Snowball fights. Wearing mittens. Ice skating on my pond. I miss my family, my home, my own culture," Scott was not surprised; Benny had mentioned almost immediately upon arriving in Miami how she longed for the Six Nations culture in which she was immersed in Saskatchewan. "I miss knowing everyone in town. Not locking my doors at night. I miss…" She broke off, both knowing what she was thinking.

"Ryan." Finished Scott, and, though her expression was one of denial, she spoke no words to indicate that it was not true.

> > > > > >

Ryan rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he stepped down the stairs. It was Christmas morning, but in the Wolfe household, it was regarded as a day of Hanukkah. Walking towards the kitchen, he smelled latkes and borscht--though he would never admit it to his mother, he liked beets enough to even buy them for his own home in Miami.

"Finally, he is awake! Ryan, we thought you were dead with all the sleeping you do!" His mother's face was bright red from continued exposure to the heat of the kitchen, but her expression was kind and loving as she wrestled her son--a good half foot taller than she--into an embrace, placing a wet kiss on his cheek.

"And he doesn't even think to wash his face! I excuse my boy; he is normally much more polite than this. Don't you say hello, Ryan?" She asked maternally as she indicated the guest seated at the table.

Ryan's jaw fairly dropped as he recognized the young woman.

"Maggie?" He took a moment to regard his first love, Magdalene Schmidt. She seemed somewhat flustered to see him, too; it had been years. "Hey, uh…hi!" Now it was Ryan whose face burned red. _After all these years…_

"Hey, Ryan. How are things?" She asked shyly, barely making eye contact. He found himself pleased to hear that she had retained her strong Boston accent. Then he found himself awkwardly stepping past his mother to move into a hug with this girl, who he had long loved, and never quite completely forgotten.

"Things are…uh…good, actually. Wow. It's really been a while." _Great. The first time I see her in years, and I'm in pyjamas, with morning breath, and can't think of a thing to say. _

"You children move to the living room." ordered Mary Wolfe. When met with alarmed looks, she insisted, "Out! I have much cooking to do for this boy, who eats nothing in Miami and comes home three times a year for some real food." With that, she shooed them towards the living room, where they sat awkwardly in comfy chairs, facing one another. Ryan was glad that she had sat in a chair, for he would have been torn as to whether or not to sit beside her if she had sat on the couch.

"I didn't expect to see you here." She said quietly, blushing.

"Yeah, I, uh…haven't been back in a while." _Great response, idiot. _"You still living in Boston?"

She laughed. "No, I moved out to Fort Lauderdale about a year ago. I'm in real estate."

For the second time in a matter of minutes, Ryan's jaw dropped. "You're kidding. I live in Miami!" He laughed. "What are the odds, huh?"

> > > > > >

"OK, girl, enough of your moping. I'm taking your ass out." Scott stated as he pulled Benny's hand, lifting her off of the couch where she sat, watching a _Sex and the City _marathon.

She looked up in alarm. "But where? Everything's closed on Christmas!"

He snorted. "Shows what you know. Get dressed. We're going dancing!"

An hour later, Benny stepped shyly through the glass doors of Club Cisco, a local dance club, and, according to Scott, _the_ spot to pick up guys. Whether he meant for him or for her, she wasn't quite certain.

"You know, Scott, this isn't really my scene." _How does he not understand that I went through a major break-up less than a week ago!_

But Scott was already ordering drinks. A gin and tonic for him, a daiquiri for her.

Three daiquiris later, she was dancing with a cute twenty-something Hispanic man. _Look at me, a regular hip-hop music video girl. _He spun her outward, then brought her close, his hands moving slowly down her back. She noticed dimly how his face was buried in her neck as he grinded with her to the music. She laughed inwardly. _What is it about him that doesn't make me pull away? _

She excused herself at the end of the song and went to the bar to order another drink--and give her feet a rest. He followed her, and sat on the stool beside her.

"I never got your name." He said, flashing a beautifully manicured smile.

"What?" The music roared in the background, and she was rendered unable to properly hear him. In response, he grabbed her hand lightly and led her to the front of the building. At first she was startled, but relaxed when she realized that he was not taking her out of sight of the bouncer, who stood guarding the door.

"Sorry, I just had to get out of there." He said as he fished in his pocket. "Mind if I smoke?" When she shook her head, he pulled one out, offering her a cigarette as well. To her surprise, she obliged, taking it between two fingers. They lit up together and stood in silence a few moments.

"So what's your name anyway, Pretty Girl?" He asked as he ashed his cigarette against his index finger.

She smiled sheepishly at the nickname by which he had been referring to her all night, and responded in her most seductive voice, "Benjamin." _How do you sound sexy when you have a boy's name?_

But he just smiled, taking another drag, and said, "Benjamin. That's nice. I'm Adrián."

Her breath escaped her for a moment; his name was pronounced, "Adh-RY-ahn", and her heart flipped in the way that it did whenever she was reminded of Ryan. But she covered her momentary dismay by taking a puff of the cigarette and trying not to choke on the poisonous smoke.

"You from around here?" He asked.

She nodded. "Yeah. Moved here almost a year ago. You?"

He laughed. "You could say I'm 'right off the boat'. I used to live in Brazil, right? Just got here with my brothers three weeks ago." He contemplated for a moment. "I wonder how long it takes for the immigrant feeling to go away."

Benny sighed. "I've been here ten months and I still feel like a foreigner. Not a lot of people around here speak Ojibwa." When Adrián obviously had no idea what she was talking about, she clarified. "The Aboriginal group my family comes from. In Canada."

"Oh, so you know how it is, right?"

"Hm. I guess so." There followed a moment of intense eye contact, at which point Adrián dropped his cigarette on the ground, and, wrapping an arm around her waist, pulled Ben into a deep kiss.

_His breath tastes like smoke. Mine probably does, too. Sick._

He ran a thumb over her cheek, causing her skin to involuntarily bristle. _He's taller than Ryan by at least three inches. And bigger, too. It's nice to know that the guy you're kissing weighs more than you. _

Benny caught herself thinking about Ryan, and her heart jumped as it had when Adrián had told her his name.

_You can take the girl out of the love, but you can't take the love out of the girl._

_ > > > > > > _

"Ryan, you are taking that girl out _tonight_." As with most things his mother said, it was an order.

Ryan smiled. "I'm way ahead of you, Ma. We're going skating on the canal. I'm picking her up at eight."

She was taken aback. "Oh. Well good. You wash your face and cut your nails first, though; that poor girl does not want to be seen with some sort of wild man who looks like he is from the forest!" Her accent was always more noticeable when she lovingly criticized her only son.

"OK, Ma, I'll get right on that." He replied with a hint of sarcasm. His mind was elsewhere, however, as he recalled the previous day, when he had sat with Maggie for hours in the living room, talking about old times, and new:

"_You look great, Ryan." she smiled coyly. _

"_Huh? Oh, thanks…you, too. I mean…you really look nice." _

_Maggie blushed. "Mind elsewhere?"_

"_Oh, not at all." He smiled at her genuinely. "I'm here."_

"_Thinking about your girlfriend?"_

"_No girlfriend to think about." He was wise to her tricks, but grateful for her attempt at subtlety._

"_Oh? I just assumed there was someone. It's a little sad to be alone this time of year, don't you think?" she looked down at her folded hands in her lap. "I know I get lonely."_

_ > > > > > > _

The water ran hot across Ryan's back as he got ready for his first date in months. His mind couldn't help but wander to the girl he would be taking out in less than two hours. She had slimmed down since he had last seen her, almost a decade prior. She stood at five feet, four inches. _Shorter than Benny. _She had an olive complexion, big brown eyes, and dark, wavy hair running down her back and shoulders. _Not as thick and shiny as Benny's. _Maggie was petite, far from full-figured, which suited her timid personality. _Not outgoing like Benny. _

Ryan smacked himself. _You're not allowed to think about your ex-girlfriend when you're going on a date with your…_he almost laughed. Maggie was his ex-girlfriend, too. It had been years since they had dated, but she still had that status to him. Still, he couldn't get Benny off of his mind. _I wonder what she's doing right now. _He felt a pang of jealousy. _I wonder if she's with some other guy right at this moment. _

After showering, Ryan brushed his hair and teeth, and got dressed. Green dress shirt. Black suit jacket. Denim jeans. In anticipation of the cold he would face out on the wintry canal, he grabbed a heavier jacket, gloves, and put on an extra pair of socks.

"Ma, I'm leaving!" He called as he exited the house, stepping gingerly over the icy driveway towards his parked Hummer. Simultaneously driving and reading the directions to Magda's house that he had scribbled onto some of his father's stationary, he backed out of the driveway and into the street. Six left turns later, he stood on the front step of her parents' new house, hopping between feet to keep warm.

"Hey, Ryan! I'll be right out!" She smiled upon opening the door. She wore a heavy wool sweater, fitted black snow pants, and a black toque. "You can wait in the car if you want," She grinned. "It's freezing out here."

They arrived at the canal shortly thereafter, and sat together in silence as they strapped on their skates. Once they got onto the ice, it all came back easily to Ryan. _Just like riding a bicycle. _Maggie, however, was not so lucky. She slipped immediately, falling face-first into Ryan's arms. He held her up, and for a moment, they just gazed at one another before shyness took hold and he helped her up.

"Come on, you can do it!" He cheered as he skated slowly backwards away from her. She started uneasily, sliding awkwardly, but soon got her footing and followed him down the wide canal. It was deserted that night, the stars twinkling in the brisk winter darkness, the faint sound of traffic in the distance. Ryan did a quick lap around Maggie, then slowed beside her. She looked over at him and smiled, then linked her arm through his.

"I'm having fun with you tonight, Ryan Wolfe." Her smile lit up the night.

"And I'm having fun with _you_, Maggie Schmidt." They were barely moving at this point, skating lazily into the darkness. Maggie suddenly stopped and turned to look straight at Ryan.

"You know, there's something I should tell you." Her face was serious and solemn as she gazed at him. His heart did a double-take. _What is it? Is she seeing someone? Damn! _"This isn't easy for me to say, but…" She bit her lip nervously.

"W-what is it?" He practically choked on his words, anxiety closing in on him.

"Ryan…no one's called me 'Maggie' since High School." She laughed suddenly, doubling over in a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Looking up at Ryan's shocked and relieved expression, she exclaimed, "I'm sorry, I had to! You should have seen your face!"

Ryan feigned shock, clutching his heart with one hand as he laughed loudly. "You can't just do that to a guy, Mag--" He raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do people call you?"

"Just Magda." She said, shrugging.

"'Just Magda', huh? When did that happen?"

"When I went to University. I guess I just introduced myself as Magda, and it caught on." She moved closer to Ryan, her face inches from his. "It's cute that you call me Maggie, though." She could feel his warm breath on her face, they were so close. "I don't mind."

His hands were trembling. _Have I honestly forgotten how to play the game! What does she expect me to do? It was never like this with Benny. _He found himself suddenly pressing his lips to Magda's, just to cease the thoughts racing through his mind. The kiss was passionate but short and somewhat chaste. When they parted, her eyes were still closed, her chin turned up to reach his face. He just looked at her in the second before she opened her eyes.

_She is beautiful, though. _

"It's nice to see you again, Ryan. Let's not be strangers."

> > > > > >

Benjamin woke up with a headache and that peculiar feeling you get when you know that something you can't quite put your finger on is out of the ordinary. Tracing her thoughts back in time, she remembered the previous night, the kiss with Adrián, giving him her number, then stumbling home with Scott in the early morning. She groaned as she rolled over in bed, not out of regret, but shock that she, normally so reserved when it came to "putting herself out there", had had a casual encounter with a complete stranger, to whom she had willingly provided her phone number--her cell phone number, that is. Neil had taught her at least that much caution.

Scott walked into her room, sat softly upon the mattress beside Ben.

"How ya feeling, hon?" He asked as he ran a hand through her hair, which she noted needed desperately to be washed.

She smiled at him, revealing a set of teeth which she noted probably needed to be brushed. "I'm pretty good." She tried to suppress a laugh at what she had done the night before; her behaviour the previous night was out of the ordinary for her. Scott's smile, however, caused her to laugh out loud, rolling in bed with a fit of laughter, as Scott joined in raucously. They laughed together for several minutes, and then sighed as they caught their breath. They lay together on her duvet as they reminisced over old times, Benny happier than she had been in a long time. Discussion led to the previous night, and they couldn't help but burst into laughter again.

"It's good to have you back, Ben." He kissed her forehead. "I'm making pancakes if you're interested."

She nodded in agreement. "Sounds good." She raised herself from the bed and gazed out the window for a moment. "He's a nice guy, you know."

"I noticed."

"I think he actually likes me, too." She looked over at him and smiled. "I know you don't believe me, but I think he's interested in more than just, you know…" She knew how she sounded.

"Who are you trying to convince, Ben?" Scott walked to the window, looked out with her. "It's OK to be human, you know."

She glanced over at him sharply. "What?" She faked a laugh. "You're a crazy one, you know that?"

He just looked at her sadly. "Ben, you're not expected to just…move on from the most significant relationship you've ever--"

"Scott, I don't know what you're talking about. I don't even…I've already forgotten Ryan!" She could hear the tone in her voice, knew how ridiculous she sounded, yet she was desperate to cling onto the illusion that she didn't care about Ryan. She sighed loudly. "I'm not ready to…" She broke off, gazing out the window but seeing nothing but Ryan. Ryan opening the door for her. Ryan blushing when he told her he loved her. Ryan laughing as he watched 'Ren and Stimpy' re-runs…

"It's OK. I know." Scott held her while she cried silently, still not admitting that, despite all the things she was capable of, all the things she had accomplished, she was unable to forget the simple fact that she was alone.

_I can tough it out, I can put on a smile, I can refuse him the satisfaction of knowing that I miss him, but that doesn't mean I can get over him._

_ > > > > > > _

"Hey, Ben, how was your time off?" Asked Eric Delko pleasantly as he entered the DNA lab where Ben pored laboriously over the results with which Valera had provided her.

Benny looked up brightly and smiled. "It was great. Just what the doctor ordered. And yours?"

"Oh, you know, it was pretty good. Spent some time with my folks."

Benny smiled at him and went back to work. She noticed that he made no move to leave the lab, but she didn't look up, for fear of awkwardness. A part of her knew what was coming.

"So, uh…what are you up to this weekend?" He asked hesitantly.

She thought for a moment. "Nothing comes to mind." _Unless Adrián calls me._

"Because I was maybe thinking you'd want to do something. I have these tickets to Clapton, and I heard you were kinda a fan."

She looked up, mouth gaping. "You're _kidding_ me!" _Clapton is God!_

Eric grinned. _Victory. _"Yeah! I have a friend at ticket master, so he lets me know when there's an event, and I get wicked seats."

Benny playfully shoved his shoulder, still in disbelief. "You're _kidding_ me!"

"Don't believe me? I'll pick you up at seven on Friday to prove it!" He was fully on his game now, playing it like a pro. Like always. Eric Delko, for all his vices, really had a way with the ladies.

"That sounds great! Wow, Eric, I don't believe this! You're the greatest!" She stood on tiptoe to wrap him in a grateful--if somewhat platonic--embrace. "I look forward to it!" she exclaimed, as Ryan entered.

It was a moment of extreme awkwardness as Ryan surveyed the situation: his recently parted ex-girlfriend, hugging his long-time quasi-nemesis, whose ex-girlfriend he himself had taken out less than a year prior. There seemed to be only one course of action: ignore the situation.

"Delko, I've got the print results off of your murder weapon. Matches a Dean Parker? I've got Tripp on him right now." And with a nod to Ben, who he had not officially addressed since entering, he left, slamming the door slightly behind him.

Eric and Ben smiled at each other awkwardly, each wondering if the situation should be formally recognized.

"I should, uh, go with him." Stammered Eric, no longer the cool and suave token minority.

Ben nodded slowly. "Yeah. I guess you probably should." _At least the stupid ass knows now that there are other guys after me. That'll teach him to take me for granted. _

"So. Friday. I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Yeah." Then, more enthusiastically, "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it."

_He's not Ryan, but he's not bad. And easy on the eyes._

_ > > > > > > _

"Ben! I hear we're partners today!" Exclaimed Calleigh brightly. You could always count on her to at least plausibly feign happiness and enthusiasm. She was truly a merit to the team.

"Yeah, props to Horatio for hooking up the two brightest members of his team!" Retorted Ben playfully. It was a running joke between herself and Calleigh that they were the most valuable CSI's, due to their gender.

The two women walked out of the building together into the bright January sun. Walking towards Calleigh's Hummer (it was granted as a given fact that the senior officer would drive when carpooling, which resulted in a low expenditure on gas money on Benny's part), they got to talking.

"So Delko tells me that he's taking you out on Friday," began Calleigh cautiously. They were close, but close enough for her to tread on this territory?

"Oh, yeah…it should be fun. I love Clapton!"

_She seems more excited about Eric Clapton than Eric Delko. Does she realize that this is a date?_

They got into the vehicle, and as they were pulling out of the parking lot, Calleigh asked the question that had been pressing on her mind since Eric had told her that he was taking Benny out.

"Does Ryan know about you and Eric?"

Benjamin looked over sharply, frowning. "Why would Ryan care?" _Has he said something about me? Does he still love me?_

Calleigh narrowed her eyes, surprised that Ben would ask. "Well, you and Ryan broke up, what? A week and a half ago? And Eric and Ryan…they've had problems before. They don't always get along."

Ben's heart sank. _So much for Ryan wanting me back. Not that I care. _"Well, Ryan's a big boy, he can take care of himself. Besides, if he didn't want me going out with Delko, he could have pulled his head out of his passive aggressive ass long enough to say something." She hadn't meant to sound so bitter, but there were few people to whom she could vent her usually undetected rage and hurt.

Calleigh was taken aback. _She seems so mature sometimes, I forget that she's barely out of her teens. Poor kid. She's a child in an adult world, recovering from an adult relationship. _"You're right. Ryan's just going to have to get on board." She smiled at Benny, who tried hard to smile back.

It was a silent ride the rest of the way to the scene.


	9. Hope is a Four Letter Word

"Hey, Wolfe, come here for a second." Eric beckoned his colleague toward him into the Questionable Documents lab. Ryan raised an eyebrow, and then followed.

"Yeah? What's up?" Ryan asked tentatively.

"OkwithyouifI—" Eric's words were jumbled and incoherent, so he took a deep breath before continuing. "Is it OK with you if I take Ben out on Friday?" The question was a formality, of course. He had already asked her, she had already obliged, and he planned on going out with her, regardless of Ryan's response. But Ryan had asked him last year if he could date Natalia. _Might as well pretend I give a damn._ Eric felt guilty for his constant antagonism of Ryan; he was a good guy, but he would never be Speed. He would never fill the void, he would never be forgiven for his countless errors.

Ryan was slightly surprised that Eric had asked. Sure, he had seen them flirting around the lab, but he never thought it would amount to anything. _No, it's not OK if you date my ex-girlfriend._ "Yeah, sure, whatever." Then, realizing that someone who is over his ex-girlfriend doesn't say 'whatever', he added "Go for it. I think you guys would have a good time."

Eric nodded, smiled "Right on. Just, you know…thought I'd check it out with you fir—"

"Yeah, fine, that's great by me. I mean…I'm dating someone else now. It's…" He searched for the words to say what he was feeling. _It's hard that every night I call up Maggie and think about Ben? It's crappy that I blew it with an amazing girl? It's really difficult to be ignored by her everyday? _"It's cool. We could double sometime." And with that, he walked away, a little too quickly.

_Wolfe never gets any less weird. _

_ > > > > >_

Purely by chance, Ryan's Hummer pulled into the Crime Lab parking lot within seconds of Calleigh and Ben's return from their scene. Having developed a sort of peripheral radar for one another's actions, both Benny and Ryan noticed each other's presence, but made no indication of this realization. Even Calleigh, usually so intuitive, was oblivious to the discord within her partner's troubled mind. It was not until they all reached the front doors to the lab simultaneously that the confrontation was made apparent. From behind the two women, Ryan cleared his throat.

"So, I, uh, talked to Delko today," He started, completely unsure of where he intended the conversation to lead.

Sensing the discomfort of the situation, Calleigh politely excused herself.

"I should really go process that, uh…" She blushed, then rushed into the vacated elevator.

Benny stood defiantly before Ryan, the pain of the past few weeks plainly evident in her headstrong expression. Momentarily deterred, Ryan hesitated before continuing.

"So, did you have a nice conversation with Eric?" Benny asked testily, reminding Ryan of the subject of their confrontation, and using her colleague's first name to subtly construe the closeness of their relationship. She raised an eyebrow, daring him to take the bait.

Ryan sighed. "Yeah, he…" _Might as well just go for it._ "I never knew you were interested in him." _But it figures. Not that I care. She can date anyone she wants; I've got Magda…right?_

Benny softened a moment, wishing things could just go back to the way they were so recently. "Yep. He's taking me to see Clapton on Friday." Then, remembering her bitterness, "And I'm _really_ excited."

Taken aback, Ryan didn't know how to respond. _I thought there would at least be a _chance_ she would want me back. But, hey, if she can move on, power to her. I sure have._ "Well, I just…" He gazed at her for a moment longer than necessary.

_He used to look at me like that all the time. _

"I just wanted to make sure that there's no hard feelings. You know, with…everything that's happened…with us." Blushing, Ryan looked at the ground, barely mumbling the words.

Impulsively, Benny reached out and stroked his arm, so softly that it was almost imperceptible.

"No hard feelings." She almost whispered, and when Ryan looked up, he still had that look in his eyes, the softened gaze that she had almost forgotten how to love.

But then the moment was ever, and Ryan was shouldering past her. "Good. Yeah. Good. 'Cause, you know, I'm seeing someone now. Good, we're both…" He shrugged. "Moving on."

And Benny was left bewildered in the hallway, wondering if her imagination was getting the best of her, or she and Ryan Wolfe had just shared a close moment.

_I guess hope _is_ a four-letter word. _

_ > > > > >_

Benny walked into the ballistics lab a few minutes later, where Calleigh stood, frowning as she peered into a microscope.

"Hey, Cal, what've you got there? Is that from our case?" She tried to seem nonchalant, though she knew Calleigh was well aware of what she and Ryan must have just discussed.

Calleigh looked up suddenly. "Huh? Yeah, it doesn't quite add up. Take a look."

Benny walked over to the desk which held the microscope and looked in as Calleigh narrated.

"On your left, you've got the bullet we pulled from Mrs. Forsythe. On the right is a bullet that was test-fired from her husband's gun. We have his confession, but I thought I'd double-check just in case. And it's a good thing, because—"

"—They don't match." Interrupted Benny as she looked up from the microscope with the same confused look that Calleigh was currently sporting. "But, that doesn't make sense. The striations aren't even close to consistent, yet he signed a confession which stated that he shot his wife with _that_ gun." She said as she indicated the .38 sitting on the table. "Why would he lie about that? He's facing a needle, here. And he must have known that we'd figure it out eventually." She looked at Calleigh, working it over in her mind. _Something just doesn't fit._ "Could he be covering for someone?"

"That's what I thought, but I just don't know where the real murderer could have gone in that time. I mean, the neighbour said that she called it in as soon as the shots rang off, and watched the house for the two minutes before the police arrived at the scene. It's just so highly unlikely that a suspect could successfully flee under those circumstances…"

"Unless the neighbour is lying." Facing an expression of realization from Calleigh, Ben finished. "I mean, she could have waited before calling it in, or turned a blind eye on the suspect fleeing, or even…I don't know, hidden the real murder weapon for Mr. Forsythe so that we have this conversation right now. It's more than probable doubt, Cal."

"So it's back to the neighbour."

"It sure is."

"Don't you hate it when the ones who are supposed to be on our side end up making our job more difficult?" Calleigh exclaimed in mock-frustration. Anyone who knew the brassy southerner knew that she was truly in her element when deceit was involved. _What better way to trap a suspect than in their lies?_

"Yeah, there's just no trusting some people." Laughed Benny as they packed up the evidence to be stored in the evidence locker before they departed to further investigated the notorious neighbour.

Calleigh took a deep breath as she sought for a segue to the topic she wished to discuss. Failing at that, she decided to just jump in with both feet. "So how did it go with Ryan?" Try as hard as she might to sound casual, there was no refusing the way Benny's head snapped up at the mention of his name.

"Oh, it was OK." Seeing that such a vague answer would be insufficient, she continued. "He just wanted to say that there's…" She sighed as she remembered the way he had looked at her. "'No hard feelings'. And that he's apparently got some girl on the go, now. I mean, whatever. One less thing for me to worry about, right?"

Calleigh looked at her sadly. The hurt was still so plainly visible on the young woman's face, and in her bitter words. "Still miss him, huh?"

For the first time, Benny made no move to deny it. She looked up at Calleigh, the sadness apparent in her big blue eyes. Neither woman spoke for almost a full minute, until Ben broke the silence. "I don't know if it's that I have feelings for him, or it's just hard to get used to life without him." She shrugged, reminding herself of Ryan. "There have been other guys since him, but…it's…" _Difficult? Almost impossible? The hardest thing I've ever had to do?_ "Not easy, when I have to see him every day."

Calleigh looked on with sympathy. "Have you two discussed things? I'm sure you guys could make it work out if you tried."

Benny shook her head. "Not with this new girlfriend of his. But I guess it's only fair. I've been dating lately, and Delko's certainly an option. But this girl…it's just something I'd rather not hear about, you know?"

_I know, alright. Every woman who's ever been in your position knows. _

_ > > > > >_

Five sharp knocks on the door. The age-old code. Eric Delko shifted his weight nervously between his feet as he waited for Ben to open the door. If this were her old apartment, he would have rung the buzzer. But it wasn't. She lived uptown, now, in a little two-bedroom place on Festival Avenue. When she had told him, so casually, that she had moved, he had to catch himself before asking why. _Of course she doesn't want to live there anymore; she almost died there…what, four months ago?_

He heard her unlock the door before she actually pulled it open, and judging by the fact that it was more than one lock she unlatched, she was still suffering the repercussions of her near-death experience.

"Hey, Eric! Right on time, of course." Her smile was bright, her dimples, to die for.

"Can't keep a lady waiting!" Was his playful retort, as he subconsciously sized up his date. Black skirt flirted with mid-thigh. Fuchsia tank top drew the eye. White blouse added class. "So, you ready to go?" He asked as he gently touched her upper arm, to guide her down the stairs. _Mama raised a gentleman._

"Of course! I've been looking forward to this all week!" _Do I seem too enthusiastic? Does he know I'm thinking about…stop it, Ben! Just let yourself have fun with this hot Cuban!_

"I was thinking we could get something to eat, before the show." He offered as he held open the passenger door of his car for her. _Chicks love chivalry._ "I know a great bistro right around here."

"Sounds perfect!" _Does he know I don't eat meat?_

Conversation was light, easy, as they drove along. It always was, with Eric and Benny. They had a casual relationship, conversation always stimulating. With Ryan, there were always lengthy, contemplative pauses. She tried to convince herself that this was a negative part of their relationship, that it had nothing to do with the fact that there hadn't been a single awkward moment since that first day, on their way to their first scene together.

_There I go again, thinking about him. If I'm going to be thinking about anyone other than Eric, it should be Adrian. Not that it's the same thing. Ryan is big love. Adrian is…fun. And that would be OK, if he didn't seem to know it. I don't like being the go-to girl for "a good time". If I did, I would write my number on bathroom stalls._

"Ben?"

"Hm?"

"You just seem a little distant, you know." Eric raised an eyebrow. "Something on your mind?" That lovable boyish grin. "You'd be surprised how well I listen."

_Poor baby; he's trying so hard._ "Yeah…no, I just get a little homesick sometimes. You know…for Canada." _That's not completely a lie. _

"Maybe it was…too soon." He didn't even look at her as he said this, just stared ahead solemnly as he drove.

"Too soon? I don't…what?" _Oh, crap. He knows._

"Well, I mean, you and Wolfe. I don't know, I just thought I should, you know, make a move before some other guy…swept you off your feet or something." He chanced a peek, and a nervous laugh, her way.

_Imagine, Eric Delko, nervous about a girl!_ "I don't know what you're thinking, but Ryan and me, we're done. I like, forget it happened sometimes. Momentary lack of judgment. Doesn't even show up on the radar." _Too much? Was that overkill?_

Eric cracked a grin. "Well, I'm glad to hear it."

_Apparently not. _

_ > > > > >_

"Ryan?"

_She used to call me by that. But she said it differently…what was it?_

"Ryan!"

_She dragged the first syllable. Like she loved saying my name._

"Ryan!" Magda was clearly agitated now, balling her hands into fists and shaking her head in the painfully disappointed way she had.

"What!"

"I can't even believe this. I drive all the way from Fort Lauderdale, and you can't even manage half-assed dinner conversation. You could at least feign a little gratitude for the effort I put into this—this—" Magda cleared the kitchen table in Ryan's apartment, almost slamming the dishes.

"What, like I don't? Maggie, honey, keep in mind that I drive to Fort Lauderdale just as often as you drive to Miami. And I don't bust your ass when I get there."

"Oh, because it's _so_ unreasonable for me to want a little basic companionship from my _boyfriend_! Of course! Why didn't I see it before? Needy, clingy Magda, requiring so much from relationships!" She spat out sarcastically.

Ryan was quick to defend himself. "Don't give me that attitude. You think I don't get enough stress, pulling sixteen-hour shifts for the county?"

"So now you equate our relationship with your job. Thanks, Ryan." She turned her back to him as she stared angrily out the window about the kitchen sink.

"You know that's not what I meant." He stood and walked to her. Wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm sorry, baby." He whispered into her hair. "I'll try harder. I promise…"

She turned to face him. "I'm sorry I yelled. I just…feel sometimes like you're not even here. Like there's this huge part of you I don't know. Whatever's bothering you Ryan, you know you can tell me."

He cast his eyes downward, not daring to look up. _What's wrong? I love two women, and the one I love more is out with another guy right now. I hate myself for letting her go, and can't forget for a moment that it's all my fault._ "I'm just really busy lately, baby, but things will be better soon." _What's wrong? I can't even look you in the eye when I say that._

Magda removed herself from his arms, grabbed her purse off of the nearby counter. "I'm going for a drive. You clearly need some time right now. Do us both a favour and figure your shit out before you make it mine." He knew she wasn't leaving him, as she slammed the door behind her, because she had made no move to grab her duffel bag from his bedroom. But still, it was all wrong. He stood in the kitchen, watching it all unravel.

_What's wrong? I'm losing another love everyday that I remain so stubborn to let go. You have no idea, you've done no harm, but you're getting the shortest end of the stick. _

_What's wrong? Right now, Delko is out with her, having a great time, laughing with her, listening to music with her…kissing her._

For fear of crying, he slammed his fist into the drywall of his front hall, and only then, with his focus drawn to his injured hand, was he able to momentarily forget his woes.

> > > > >

"There you are!" called Eric as he opened the door to the break room. "You been makin' yourself scarce, Wallace?" The jest was meant in humour, but both he and Ben recognized the element of truth.

Benny looked up and laughed. "Like I have the time to play your games." She joked, an exaggerated smile flickering across her face. It reached her eyes, but something was different. It was as if a light had been turned off within her.

_So, she knows, too._ Their date had gone perfectly, until Eric walked her to the door, and leaned in for a kiss. She had considered obliging, but found that the thought almost sickened her.

_I've just been feeling so…unusual lately. Thinking about anything remotely romantic or risqué just disgusts me. _

And thus, she had pulled away awkwardly, said thank you, and just about slammed the door in his face, leaving him to speculate as to what exactly had gone wrong.

And now here he was in front of her, clearly preparing himself to deliver some pre-memorized lines. "So I was thinking we should hold off for now on, you know, going out and…everything." He said as he sat down beside her at the table in the break room. _End it with her before she does; emerge with some pride. _

Ben looked fairly shocked as she raised her eyebrows in response, and, for a fleeting moment, Eric wondered if he had been too quick to dismiss the possibility. But she nodded slowly, looking at him solemnly.

"I had a really nice time with you, Eric. I mean, we always have a great time, right?"

He nodded in response, trying to figure out what she was getting at.

"And, I mean, someday, yeah, this," she waved her hand between them "might work out. But you're right. For now, I think the best thing to do is—"

"—Keep it the way it is." He interrupted, refusing to give her the satisfaction of feeling that the break had been her decision. "Yep. Definitely, Ben." He patted her knee, then rose to leave. "I'm glad we see eye to eye on this much."

She smiled at him, as he walked towards the door. _Shame this couldn't have gone better. The man is gorgeous. _

As he went to open the door, he turned back to her.

"Oh, and Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"Just talk to Wolfe. You guys obviously love each oth—"

"—Eric. Thats's really not—"

"I know, I know. But you might as well go for it." He opened the door. "It's clearly what you both want."

And, for the second time inside of a week, Benjamin Wallace watched a male coworker walk away, her mouth open, wondering what the hell was happening to the world.


	10. Ample Compensation

The black and silver portable phone on Ben's night table rang shrilly, rousing her from a deep sleep. In her fatigued stupor, she imagined it was her alarm, and smashed her fist down upon the clock, then realized it was the phone and groggily reached for the handset.

"Huh-Hello?" She opened a bleary eye and read the bright red numbers on her clock: half past one _in the morning_. _This had better be important. _

"Benjamin Wallace?" came the sharp reply from the other end.

"Um…yeah. Speaking." _Who else?_

"Dorothy Rutherford calling on behalf of the Miami Crime Lab. We're really busy this evening, and I was asked to phone you to see if you're available to help relieve the night shift."

_You have got to be kidding me. _Benny sighed grumpily, having been interrupted from her first solid night's sleep in several weeks. "Yeah, um, just hang on. It'll take me a while to get there but—"she yawned sleepily "Yeah, I'll be in as soon as I can."

"The department thanks you for your cooperation, and assures you that you will be compensated with ample overtime hours." replied the too-cheery receptionist.

After hanging up, Benny lay in bed for a moment, visibly distraught that, yes, she was about to go into work on her day off, during someone else's shift. She then pulled on the first clothes she found in her dresser, not even bothering to brush her hair, but merely grabbing a protein bar on her way out.

Despite the thin amount of traffic, it was past two o'clock when Benny pulled into the Crime Lab parking lot. She was in a slightly better mood, having listened to her music loudly throughout the ride, but still in no mood to socialize, so she headed straight to her locker, where she grabbed her gun and badge, and when the receptionist handed her an assignment slip, she barely nodded before stalking out the front doors, only to run right into an equally unpleased colleague.

Ryan Wolfe had clearly not been sleeping well, either. His eyes were noticeably red, surrounded with dark circles, and his hair stuck out in most directions. His clothes, usually so well coordinated and crisply ironed, were unkempt and wrinkled. He had a visible amount of stubble, most of which had accumulated around his chin. His black, thick-framed glasses, which he only ever wore at home, slid down his nose. When Ben collided with him, she noticed that he smelled slightly different than he had before; no longer of washing detergent and faint cologne, but of coffee and an almost indiscernible trace of…rum? All of this Benny noticed in the second they touched; it couldn't have been any longer than that, but it was still just slightly longer than necessary. She was all-too aware of the hot presence of his hand on her hip, the way it had been the first time they kissed.

But they quickly parted, left to look at each other awkwardly.

"Hey, Ben." His eyes were barely open. _God, he looks like hell. _

"Hey. You get called in, too?"

"Yeah, it's pretty brutal. This was supposed to be my day off, so I just dropped off my car for maintenance yesterday. Figures." He sighed deeply.

"But you still came in?" Benny raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, they said it was all hands on deck. And…" His voice trailed off.

"Ryan…" _What's wrong with him?_

_Just like she used to say it. Long first syllable. Ryyyyyan_.

"Ryan, are you OK?" Benny had taken a step back since their collision, but she now moved forward in concern, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah. I hear we're carpooling. Body parts at Disco 14?"

"Huh?" Benny checked her assignment slip. "Yeah, looks like we're on the same case. You need a ride?" Disconcerted by his apparent lack of recognition of her affection, she moved past him, clicked the lock on her keys to unlock her car.

"Um, yeah. If you don't mind." Came his tired response from behind her.


	11. Big Enough to Reach

When they were both buckled in, she turned the ignition, and immediately Kelly Clarkson blasted through the speakers.

"_You had your chance, you blew it._

_Out of sight, out of mind._

_Shut your mouth, I just can't take it._

_Again and aga—"_

Ben blushed and quickly turned it off. "Girl music, right?" she said. It was what Ryan always called anything that sounded remotely 'anti-man', as he put it.

Ryan laughed as they pulled out of the parking lot. "A girl's got to have her tunes, right?" _I did have a chance. And I certainly blew it. Ew, I'm identifying with Kelly Clarkson. Ew! I recognize that as being Kelly Clarkson!_

"Oh, yeah. It's a real pick-me-up at two am."

"I can imagine. Though, personally, I usually go for Christina in the morning." He joked.

_He always did have a good sense of humour. _

As he spoke, Ben noticed something peculiar. "Hey, Ryan, how come you talk like that now?"

Ryan looked over, an eyebrow raised. "Like what?"

"I don't know, past month or so, you've had this weird accent. Like…New York or something." It was only after she spoke that she realized it was a Boston accent. _Of course, his hometown. _

"New York? Yeah, right. I'm Boston and nothing but, you damn Yankee." He laughed. "I don't know, a lot of people have told me that lately. Maybe because it's the way Madga talks and I've been spend—" he broke off in mid-sentence, his face pale white.

Ben immediately got the implication, and nodded her head solemnly. "The new girlfriend?" _You don't care. He can date anyone he wants. What do I care? I'm happy for them. _

Ryan took a moment to reply. "Uh, the new ex-girlfriend, actually." _As of, what, eight hours ago?_

Benny could barely keep the expression of victory off of her face. "Oh, I'm uh…I'm really sorry to hear that." _Little lie, big lie?_

"Yeah, it uh…" he shrugged casually. "These things happen, right?"

_Magda slammed down her fork and let out an exasperated sigh. _

"_Ryan, are you seeing someone else?"_

_He looked up sharply at the accusation, his gaze fixed on her, undivided, for the first time since they had gotten back from their visit up North. After a brief, shocked silence, he replied, quietly but firmly, "No, Magda, I'm not seeing someone else."_

Benny didn't respond for a long time. She considered asking him if he wanted to talk about it, but she knew as well as anyone that, regardless of Ryan's feelings, she didn't want to hear about it. Finally, she took a deep breath and said what was most likely the most true thing she could manage: "I'm sure it's her loss."

Ryan looked over at her slowly. _It doesn't feel that way._ He let out a bitter laugh. "Funny, how I always manage to sabotage my relationships."

Benny was silent for a long time, completely unsure as to how to respond.

_She shook her head, as if trying to clear her mind, figure out what was going on with her boyfriend. "Then why are you so distant all the time? I feel like you're never listening, you're never here. Ryan, you've got to tell me what's going on!" She spoke clearly and decisively, but the emotive tremor in her voice was unmistakable. She hated to go through this with someone for whom she cared so deeply. _

"_I know it's not fair to you, hon, I just have a lot—"_

"_Don't you dare tell me you've got a lot on the go! Don't blame this on work, don't tell me you've been busy lately…it's clear that this relationship is unsalvageable; I just want to know why."_

Benjamin Wallace had always been quick on her feet; she was rarely at a loss for words. But now she found herself perplexed: was Ryan trying to get into a conversation about their past…and potential future?

Figuring that she didn't have much to lose, she quietly responded, "You know, a month ago, or even a week ago—hell, even yesterday—I would have loved to hear you admit that it's your fault. To hear you take the blame. But seeing that you're as weak and vulnerable as the rest of us…Ryan," she boldly reached across the passenger seat and took his hand. "I see now that your actions, which have negatively affected at least two women that I know of, are only a result of your own fears. And for that, I sincerely wish you the best in reclaiming your strength, and overcoming whatever it is that prevents you from being in a long, healthy relationship."

She had needed to say it all along, but first, she had needed to feel it: forgiveness. She still loved him—hell, she loved him to death—but now she was beyond her anger, her bitterness, her hurt. The furious tears she had harboured so long, finally subsided as she felt the light pressure of Ryan squeezing her hand.

_And it dawned on him, for the first time since they had gotten home, that she was right; the relationship was in ruins. And she did deserve to know why. But, how do you tell someone that you can't commit to them because you're in love with someone else?_

"_You really want to know?" God, he was tired. Not just sleepy, either; as the days passed, he found himself becoming increasingly weary, each day. Maybe it was the anti-biotic his doctor had put him on, since discovering a new infection in his old eye injury. And maybe he was just weary from all this bullshit. "The truth is…sometimes you just don't know what you want until someone else has it. And I know it's horrible, I know you deserve so much better than that…"_

_Magda reached across the table, took his hand, and for a second, he thought it was an act of reconciliation. But then she softly replied, "You're right. I do." She stood up, picked up her belongings where they lay on the linoleum floor, and placed a hand on his shoulder as she walked past him, towards the door. "Goodbye, Ryan. I hope you find what it is you're looking for." _

No one spoke, and to an outsider, it would have appeared to be an awkward and uncomfortable silence, but both Ben and Ryan knew better. They sat in the car, holding hands, and realizing that all they needed in the world was right before them.

_Ryan sat in the silence of his deserted kitchen for a long time, thinking. And for the first time since he couldn't remember, he mourned. He allowed himself to grieve his losses, his mistakes, and what appeared to be a very bleak future. _

And finally they were big enough to reach out and take it.


	12. Trying Hard to See

The scene in question was an upscale club downtown. It was part of the "green movement": clubs that employed gardeners instead of interior designers, to create the indoor illusion of being outside. The club was decorated with fountains, patches of lawn, and countless ferns. They realized, quite soon upon arriving at the scene, that extensive processing would not be necessary. The alleged "body parts" were nothing more than a miniscule blood smear on a bathroom door. Ryan sighed upon hearing the club owner's story.

"Listen, I thought I might as well be safe and call it in. Even if it does cost me a lot of bad press." The man said proudly, appearing to expect a badge of honour.

"How nice of you," replied an exasperated Ryan. But he couldn't keep the overjoyed tone from his voice. _Did she really reach for my hand? Did I really reach back? It's not so bleak, after all!_

Ben and Ryan continued to move slowly around the club, looking for anything out of the ordinary, until Ben called out to him in an excited voice.

When Ryan finally managed to track her down, crouching on the opposite side of the dance floor, she was squinting at the ground, towards a small patch of grass.

"Uh…what exactly are we looking at?" _We're a 'we' again!_

Benny looked at him, confused. "Ryan, don't you see? This soil has been recently disturbed. We've already discerned that the blood on the door is human; this upset topsoil could well contribute to the act, or at least our understanding of it.

Ryan squinted, trying desperately to see what she saw. _Nothing._ _Oh shit, what if it's my eyesight again?_ He felt his heart rate increase, and chewed his lip nervously.

And of course, nothing went unnoticed by Benjamin Wallace.

"Ryan…what's up? You seem kinda…on edge." She almost whispered as she placed a delicate hand upon his upper arm.

He looked like he wasn't going to answer, but finally looked her in the eye. "You know about my old eye injury?"

She nodded slowly. Of course she did. He frequently tossed and turned in the night, as if scared to death that someone else may well shoot him in the eye with a nail gun. And when she looked over at him, tangled in the sheets, she saw a young man—an attractive young man—sweating profusely and clutching his face with both hands. _How could I forget?_

"Well, I've been having some problems lately. My sight, it uh…it's been acting up a bit. So I had it checked out." His eyes begged her to comfort him, a request she knew he would never verbally make. He was vulnerable, he was weak, he was completely susceptible to anything the world might throw at him, but he would never once in his life admit that to anyone, let alone ask for help. "It's an infection. My sight has been deteriorating for a couple of weeks now. They don't know what they can do. I'm getting a little scared."

The release was incredible. To have finally spoken his mind, finally told just one person that yes, Ryan Wolfe does indeed experience fear, gave him an instantaneous feeling of relief and immense gratitude towards this woman who was so much more than a woman. _Who knew it would feel so good to admit that you're scared?_

Ben threw her arms around him, brought his soft, warm body towards her. She waited a long moment before breaking the silence, then whispered into his ear, "Ryan, it's going to be OK. You've got the best doctors in Miami, you've got a stronger will than anyone I've ever met, and you've got—" She broke herself off. _This is the guy who ripped my heart out for fun. The guy who will never fully understand the pain, the agony he put me through. And here I am, comforting him?_ It wasn't the old anger, the old bitterness. It was a new feeling: pride. How do you tell someone who put you through hell that they can lean on you anytime they need, regardless of the torture you endured on their behalf? Ben just looked at him, and revised her impending statement. "You've got…nothing to worry about, Ryan. Don't…don't worry about it." She shrugged, and he immediately recognized the gesture.

_That's how you pretend you don't care. _

He nodded at her, and then bent down further to inspect the area of disturbed soil she had brought to his attention. Squinting hard, he could just make out the slight difference in colour between the shade of the area she indicated, and the rest of the section of grass.

"Could be completely benign; recently dug-up spots in a…uh…lawn, are hardly probative. But you're right that it's strange how it's contained to this single area. I'll ask about the maintenance record for this section. I guess we'll just have to dig it up, huh?"

_That Boston accent again. I wonder if he would get a Canuck accent, hanging out with me. _

They hadn't been digging for long before finding something more probative: a two square-inch section of flesh, wrapped in what appeared to be a plain white cotton rag.

Ben and Ryan exchanged confused glances: _what the hell?_

Ryan shook his head, not comprehending. "How could this possibly have gotten here?"

"I don't know…it's certainly out of place in a place like this." Benny replied as she took out a hemoglobin test from her kit, to discern whether or not the flesh was human, though it seemed quite clear that it was; the skin was pale, with faint blonde hairs. _Maybe from someone's forearm. _"Yeah, it's human." She sighed, not really knowing how far this case could be taken. "Whoever this belongs to…is either dead, or seriously disfigured. Look how thick the flesh is. You'd definitely need a skin graft to heal from this. No question."

Ryan frowned. "This is going to be a tough one to…Ben?" They had been walking together towards the entrance, but he now realized that she was no longer alongside him. He turned to see her looking at the bagged evidence, complete concentration etched across her face. He walked back to her, squinted at the evidence.

"You see something?" He asked.

"Yeah…" she held the bag closer to his face. "Look at the other side of the sample. Something's lodged in there."

"What? Ben, I really don't see anything."

Benny sighed and walked over to the bar, where she cut open an alternate side of the bag, pulled out the flesh, and flipped it in her hand, so that the skin was against her palm, and she was facing the bloody portion.

"Pass me my tweezers?"

"Huh? Yeah, one sec…" He reached into her kit, and placed the tweezers softly into her outstretched—if gloved—palm. After a moment, she pulled the tweezers up, a single strand of hair clasped between them.

Benny laughed. "You see that? That's what we call—"

"Incriminating evidence." He finished. "Nice. Let's just hope it has a follicle, and it belongs to the attacker."


	13. More Than Poisonous Smoke

They continued to discuss the case as they returned to Ben's car and drove back to the lab. They hadn't spoken so casually, so happily, since they had broken up. Taboo dictated that neither mention the moment on the ride to the scene—yet. As they drove along, Ben reached into her purse, brandishing a pack of cigarettes. She didn't even realize that Ryan didn't know about her new habit, until she looked over, after having lit up and opened her window, to see the shocked expression upon his face. _Oh, man._

His voice was almost humourously high, as he asked her, "What's this about?"

She feigned bewilderment. "What?"

"Since when do you…smoke! You're a health nut!" He was completely exasperated; this was completely atypical behaviour for her.

"Picked it up a few weeks ago." She looked over at him, took in his expression. "Oh, come on, it's not like I'm a chimney." She laughed nervously. "I go through, like, a pack every other week."

A moment of silence as he tried to figure out to respond to this girl who he thought he knew so well. "Ben!" He actually laughed. "What _is_ this?"

"Fine, fine." She put out the cigarette, put it into a plastic bag she pulled from her purse.

"What…saving it for later?"

"No, silly. If I was saving it, I would put it back in the pack. I'm just doing my part to save the environment. When the bag's full, I put it in the garbage." She replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"So, you'll pollute your body—which you love and cherish—but not Miami—which you hate. Of course." Ryan was known for his sarcasm for a reason.

"Geez, Ryan, I never would have imagined that it would be such a big deal." _Thanks, Mom. _

"I'm not angry, just—"

"It is _so_ vital to your health that you don't say 'disappointed'." She joked. They made eye contact, and laughed together. "Besides, I'm thinking of quitting. Not that it's a big deal or anything." _Was I actually thinking of quitting? Oh, well. _

"Oh, yeah? Well, good for you, Ben." He smiled at her sincerely, the dark circles under his eyes seemingly gone in that moment. _Say something smooth! Quick, before the moment's over!_ "And, uh…you look good. You're, uh…looking good." _Wow, you truly do have an impressive command of the English language. Idiot!_

Ben smiled sweetly, blushed a furious shade of red, then giggled. "You're too nice, Ryan. And, uh…you look…" She grimaced. "Well, you kinda look like hell today. But you usually look great!" Another laugh together.

"Yeah, it's been…I haven't been sleeping all that well lately. With the eye, and everything." A contemplative silence. "With any luck, it'll just clear right up, right?" A feigned optimism. "Don't tell anyone for now, OK? Just until I figure it out."

Benny nodded solemnly. "Of course."

He smiled gratefully. _What a sweetheart._ "Thanks, Ben. You're a doll." He ran his thumb lightly across her right cheek. "I mean it."


	14. Love, Interrupted

Maxine Valera hailed Ryan into the DNA lab as he walked past. After ascertaining that it was indeed he to whom she signaled, he opened the glass door and leaned over the desk to see the sheet she held.

"Results from the hair and skin samples?" He asked, his expectations low. It was a weird and not entirely hopeful case.

Noticing his air of faithlessness, she smiled inwardly. "Don't give up on me yet, Ryan." She handed him the sheet. "Hair came back to a Marcy Gordon. She was in CODIS for a car theft a few years ago. Did two years in state prison, released on parole four years ago."

Ryan nodded gratefully. He hadn't expected the hair to yield such high results. "And the skin?"

Valera smiled. This was what she lived for. The hot-shot CSI's coming to the lowly lab tech to make or break their cases. _I always believed in science._ "Funny thing about that." She handed him the page with the results. "Skin belongs to her husband, Keith. He's in the system because he was a suspect in her GTA case, but was released on insufficient evidence. Filed for divorce while she was in the pen."

"Thanks, Valera. I owe ya one." Said Ryan as he pushed through the door, both reports in hand.

"Just doing my job."

Ryan found Ben in trace, analyzing something under the double-barrel microscope.

"Hey, I got DNA back on the hair and skin samples. Hair is an ex-con, Marcy Gordon; skin is her ex-husband's, Keith. This is shaping up a lot better than we first thought."

"Mm-hmm?" Mollified Ben absently.

"Uh…Benny? This is kinda a major break." He said as he walked over to where she stood. "What've you got there, anyway?" _And here I was expecting her to be happy._

As if recognizing Ryan's presence for the first time, Ben laughed in embarrassment, flushing profusely. "Sorry, Ryan. I was just kinda distracted. Take a look at this." She moved over slightly, so that he could look into the microscope, but she was still close enough that his arm brushed against her as he adjusted the focus, sending tingles up both of their spines.

He squinted into the lens, and briefly saw what she was looking at. "Where did you get this?"

"Valera noticed it. Pulled it off of the skin sample." She made excited eye contact with him. "Pretty good, huh?"

"Wallace, you put me to shame!" He exclaimed, laughing. "Looks like we're all set to go out again!" Then, realizing the pun in his statement, self-corrected. "Into the field, I mean. To check this out. In the field." _I never cease to amaze myself._ He cleared his throat uncomfortably, then averted his eyes to the sheets he held. "DNA reports. Check it out."

Benny laughed. "Oh, Ryan, you're just too funny." She took the reports, scanning them quickly with her bright eyes. "Perfect. We've got a victim, suspect, and, thanks to moi, a crime scene." She smiled, tousled Ryan's hair. "Aren't we quite the team."

_Yes, we certainly are. _

She walked towards the door, shed her lab coat onto the hook with 'B. Wallace' inscribed above it, and held open the door, waiting for Ryan to follow her.

"Waiting for an invitation?" She joked to her awestruck colleague.

_After all I've put her through, here she is, way more smooth than me. Figures._

Ryan laughed and joined her at the door. "Ladies first."

"Always a gentleman." She said softly, looking into his beautiful eyes. They were now almost in an embrace, standing so closely together. The way he stood in the doorway, as she held the door open, made it so that her arm was almost wrapped around him. Neither decided to move.

"You know me." He replied, gazing at her just as softly, the way he used to, the way he had in the front hallway that day they had discussed her date with Delko.

_Those eyes. _

As both were resigned to not breaking the moment, they may have stood that way forever, had Aaron Peters not cleared his throat uncomfortably as he stood behind Benny.

"Uh…do you think I could get in there for just a second?" He asked quietly as he stared at the ground, flushing an angry shade of red.

_Damn Peters has always been bad news. _Ryan remembered all too well how this particular colleague had implicated him two years ago as the mole.

Nonetheless, Ryan and Benny broke apart and headed out the door of the lab, and stood awkwardly in the hallway as Aaron made his way into the now-empty room. Upon entering, he glanced back at the uncomfortably, as if to see if they were still standing there, watching him. They were.

The moment was over, for the time being.

"To the field?" Ryan asked.

"To the field." Benny replied.


	15. Full of what?

The man squinted into the sun. "It looks like rain."

Benny and Ryan exchanged glances. "Could you please answer the question, Mr. Barr?" Asked Ryan impatiently. They stood beside a large, white tent on the beach, supported by four stakes maneuvered into the sand, with one side open to the street, and the other three covered by canvas siding. The side opposite the street had a single rectangular hole, six feet by four, opening onto the beach, upon which the tent sat. Behind the tent, on the beach, was a forty square-foot enclosure, two feet below sea level, and contained by stone blocks. Under the tent was a hardwood dance floor, flanked by small, round tables, with a bar at one end. A beach club.

Alessandro Barr looked evenly at the two CSI's, and replied in a deep voice, slightly punctuated by a faint South American accent. "I don't think we've had any mischief around here, but we've been very busy getting the place ready. Spring break, you know. I'm going to make a fortune off of those kids."

"Do you recognize either of these people?" Asked Ben as she showed him the rap sheets of both Marcy and Keith Gordon. She was sure to keep both eyes on the Barr's expression, to detect if he was lying as he responded.

"Yeah, this lady." He said as he indicated Marcy's picture. "She comes in, maybe once, twice a month for the past year or so. Figured she was just a cougar, or something."

"And why's that?" Inquired Ryan as he raised an eyebrow.

"Well, some clubs are for people in their late thirties, forties. Some clubs are for people in their fifties and plus. Place like this," He pointed a thumb towards the white tent. "You _know_ it's for thirty and under. You just know. So to see a woman her age—what, thirty-eight, thirty-nine? You just kinda figure she's scoping the cabaña boys. And mostly I don't mind so long as they pay cover and buy lots of drinks. Which they do."

Benny nodded. "And when's the last time you saw her?"

"Well, let's see…it was the night we had DJ Moxx. Would have been," he consulted some papers on the clipboard he held. "December fourth."

"So she comes in twice a month for almost a year, then doesn't show up for two months?" Ryan shot Benny a look. _Score. _"You wouldn't happen to have surveillance, would you?" _Worth a shot._

Barr shook his head apologetically. "Costs enough to post guards around the perimeter to make sure we don't get cheapies sneaking in. Sorry."

"Alright, well, if you remember anything, just give us a call." Said Ryan as he handed him a card with the Lab's number.

"Oh, and Mr. Barr?" Called Benny as they walked away. "You know the sparkles you put in the sand in that enclosure out back?"

He nodded his acknowledgement.

"You know who else has them?"

He seemed confused for a moment. Then he slowly responded: "Nobody, is who. I have 'em custom made by this little store in Brazil." He laughed heartily. "Gotta support the hometown, right? But, yeah, they know it's my gimmick—you gotta have a gimmick in this business—so they don't make 'em for nobody but me."

Benny grinned. "Thanks a lot, Mr. Barr."

> > > > >

Ryan laughed as they got into Benny's Hummer. "You're something else, Benjamin, you know that?"

She looked over and smiled at him as she pulled on her seatbelt and put the keys in the ignition. "And why's that?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "You're just so full of…" He drifted off, not knowing how to describe her. _Everything that's right about the world?_

"You should be careful how you end that sentence." Teased Benny, pulling out of the parking lot.

Ryan laughed. "I was going to say that you're full of life, unless you had other ideas."

Benny looked at him curiously. _Full of life?_ "Easy compliment to pay, when you spend so much time with corpses. Nonetheless, thanks." Her smile was genuine as she searched his eyes for any hidden meaning. She found none. _Is he actually being upfront for the first time?_

There was a long silence, stretching on for nearly half an hour, broken only by the sound of passing midday traffic.

Ben snuck a look over at her passenger, to see him leaning his head against the window, his eyes closed as he massaged his right temple. The expression of pain was clear.

"Ryan, what's wrong?" Now she was seriously concerned.

He opened his eyes slowly, showing an obvious sensitivity to light, and turned his head towards her. "Nothing. Just a headache. I took some Tylenol about…" He checked his watch, squinting to read the face. Failing that, he estimated. "Maybe two hours ago."

"Your eye?" The worry in her voice was completely apparent. _This is more serious than I realized._

He nodded silently, obviously in tremendous pain. "Do you think you could drop me at the hospital? I'll catch up with you later; I just want to get a checkup."

Alarms went off in Ben's head. Ryan was inherently afraid of hospitals; to ask to go to one indicated extreme suffering on his part. _Oh, man. This is bad._ She heard him whimpering almost inaudibly, and turned her head to see him shaking in pain. She knew what was coming when he doubled over, his body contracting. Vomit immediately spewed from him, all over the dashboard, and covering his lap with putrid bile.

"Oh, man. OK, Ryan, we're going to the ER." She said calmly as she turned on the siren and rotating lights on her car. Reaching over to grab his hand, she felt pure sympathy for her colleague-turned boyfriend-turned hated ex-turned current love interest. "Don't worry, hun, it's going to be OK."

He couldn't even nod, so strong was the pain. His only response was a tight squeeze of her hand, which he didn't let go for the remainder of the trip to the hospital.


	16. Let's Just Rest Awhile

When the orderlies finally let Ben into Ryan's hospital room, he was already set up, lying in bed with an intravenous drip in his arm. He was propped up on pillows against the wall, wearing dark sunglasses to protect against the light that caused him such pain. When he saw her walk in, Ryan raised his free arm in greeting, and called out jovially.

"Benny! What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He could barely keep the slur from his voice, and immediately cracked into hysterics.

_Oh, my. What have they got him on?_

"Hey, Ryan. How are you feeling?" She asked softly as she sat down on the foot of his bed. He immediately pulled himself up, so that he sat beside her, both of their feet hanging over the side of the bed.

"Well, you know, I have a pretty serious infection in my eye and my ophthalmologist says that immediate surgery is the only way to save my sight. But, man…" He laughed for a moment, then regained his composure. "The morphine is _bomb_. It's the reason people get hurt." At this, he laughed hysterically, clutching his sides until he calmed down. "Oh, and Ps," He added as he placed a hand on Ben's knee, the glasses sliding down his nose. "Thanks a million for the lift. You _rock_." Surprisingly, this statement was not followed by a fit of laughter, but a serious gaze into Benny's eyes.

She was speechless. Here he was, the man she had cared for so much, for so long, being affectionate and caring and grateful, but she could only blame it on morphine. _Figures. It just figures. _

"Only the best for Ryan Wolfe," She said softly as she placed her hand on Ryan's where it rested on her knee. "Any idea how long you'll be in here?" She was anxious for him to feel better; this invalid Ryan was not the one she had fallen in love with.

He only shrugged in response. "Depends what 'immediate surgery' means. Probably operate within twenty-four hours, then who knows how long I'll be in here before I go home." He allowed himself to fall back onto the mattress, so that he stared up at the white ceiling, legs still dangling over the edge of the mattress. He let out a deep sigh. "And that's assuming everything goes fine and I don't lose my sight completely." He placed a hand on Ben's upper arm, applying gentle pressure, to indicate that he wished for her to fall back, as well. She complied. _Only because I'm a good friend and colleague. Not because I relish the thought of lying beside him in a bed again. Only because I'm a good friend and colleague. _

They both rolled onto their sides to look at each other, face to face. Ryan's glasses were long gone at this point, and his bleary red eyes peered out at Benny hazily. When he spoke, she could feel his warm breath on her skin, smell his toothpaste.

"I owe you, Benny," He whispered, his speech still noticeably slurred. When she only blushed and ducked her head, he pulled her chin upward to see eye to eye with him. "I mean, for everything. For a year's worth of…everything. And for letting me be here." He gesticulated towards the mattress, then frowned. "Well, not here as in hospital. But thanks for taking me to _here_, here. I think I mean being here." He waved a hand between the two of them. "I was being figurative, I think." He was essentially delirious as he yawned and moved towards her, pulling her in with a strong arm, so that it was irrefutable that they were, indeed, lying together.

_I guess, if you have to be in a hospital…_

Both overworked and exhausted, they fell asleep together, among the white surgical wall paint and the permeating scent of disinfectant.


	17. More Than Gossip

Horatio Caine was in the DNA lab, talking to Natalia Boa Vista, when his cell phone rang.

"Caine."

"Yeah, Horatio, I'm sorry to bother you…" He recognized the voice as the newest addition to the team. And she sounded worried.

"Ms. Wallace, what seems to be the problem?" He asked in that calm, paternal way he had.

"Um, it's Ry—CSI Wolfe. He, uh…just went into pre-op." She couldn't keep the concern from her voice. Horatio imagined her pacing outside the hospital, chain-smoking a pack of Camel Lites.

He nodded unconsciously, as if she could see this motion. "Alright. Could you tell me exactly what happened to him? Is it—" He excused himself from Natalia's presence, out into the deserted corridor. He was polite, he was professional, but he wasn't stupid. _I'd prefer not to divulge Mr. Wolfe's medical problems to the mole. _Once in the hallway, he finished his question. "Is it about his eye?" He had been having sneaking suspicions that his younger colleague had been have issues with his sight for a few weeks.

Benny sighed. "Yeah. We were on our way back from the field, and he started freaking out with this massive headache." She choked up for a moment. "They say the infection has spread pretty far. They don't know how his sight will be." She was practically whispering now.

"Alright, Ms. Wallace. Just stay with him, and don't talk to anyone. We don't want the county getting into this if they don't have to."

"OK." Was her weak response. _What a tough girl._

"OK. I've got to go, but I want to you call me when he's out of surgery, and if you need anything at all. OK?" Again, the fatherly tone.

"Mm-hmm. Thanks a lot, Horatio. I just didn't know who else to call."

"Alright. Just stay with Wolfe."

> > > > >

Dan Cooper looked up as Natalia walked into his Lab. She looked good, in a flowered blouse and fitted jeans, her tan peaking through the material, as always.

"Hey, Boa Vista. What's up?" There was no reason for a DNA tech to come into the A/V lab. They were essentially confined to their own labs, and they knew it. This visit was decidedly out of the ordinary.

"I was just wondering if you've heard anything lately about Ryan…" When anyone in the department wanted gossip, they knew who to go to. But something about Natalia's tone told him that this was more than idle gossip; was she interested in Ryan again?

Dan racked his brain in search of any recent information pertaining to his colleague. "Uh, I think Peters might have mentioned something about him and Ben getting back together."

Natalia's heart sank. _Not quite what I was looking for. _"Nothing…about his eye?" She tried not to be completely obvious. From the pieces of Horatio's conversation that she had caught, she knew to be worried; she just didn't know about what.

Dan frowned. "Well, he wore his glasses today. Which he never does. Other than that, I couldn't tell you. He knows how to be discreet."

"Alright, thanks DC." Natalia headed out of the Lab.

"You want me to ask around?" He really was eager to please.

She turned around for a moment, pausing at the door. "If you don't mind."

> > > > >

As she walked down the hallway towards the elevator, she couldn't help her rising concern. Her short-lived, casually dating relationship with Ryan had come to an unspoken end once she had revealed her status as the department mole. Since then, she had found herself becoming increasingly attracted to him, and had experienced a noticeable degree of satisfaction when she had heard that he and Ben had broken up in December. Natalia had wanted to ask Ryan out since then, but hadn't known how. And now, something was wrong, but she had no way of figuring out what.

_Or do I?_

Natalia picked up the phone sitting on her table in the Lab, and dialed Benny's cell phone number. After a few rings, Ben's tired voice picked up.

"Hello."

"Hey, Ben, it's Natalia. Valera sent me those DNA results, asked me to compare them to some cold case stuff I've got, and the male DNA is consistent with a similar piece of flesh found in Wyoming three years ago." This was all true, of course; she just hadn't intended to tell Ben until they got back.

She sounded weary and spent as she replied, "Alright, thanks Natalia. I'm just at the hos—I'm just working this case with Ryan, I don't know when we'll be back." Realizing her mistake, she quickly ended the conversation and hung up.

"_The hos"…the hospital? _She checked her watch, saw that it was around the time she usually took her lunch break, and locked up her office before taking the elevator to the parking lot, and driving in the direction of the hospital.


	18. Undeniable Connection

It took over an hour for her to get to the hospital, due to a combination of unexpected traffic, multiple construction zones, and a basic lack of navigational skills on her part. By the time she got to the hospital, she was due back at work. _Oh, well, it's not like I've ever been late before. _But a part of her knew that she, like Ryan, was unpopular at the Lab, and some of her coworkers would likely fault her for any mistakes she may make. _Oh well, Ryan could be in serious trouble here. _

Following a map of the hospital which indicated "Recovery" on the third floor, she took the elevator up, and proceeded to peer into each room in search of her colleague. She found him towards the end of the hallway, unconscious in bed, with an IV in his arm, an oxygen tube under his nose, and a large white bandage covering much of the right side of his face. Natalia opened the door quietly, and it wasn't until she was fully inside of the room that she noticed Benny sitting in a chair in the corner, an expression of confusion upon her face as she regarded the intruder.

_What the hell is Boa Vista doing here?_

"Uh, Ben, hey. After we spoke, I got a little worried." _That's certainly not a lie._ Natalia made her way to Ryan's bedside, so that she was on the opposite side as Benny, her back to the door. She looked down upon Ryan's bandaged face, hoping sincerely that he would recover safely and in good health. "What happened to him?"

When Benny didn't respond for a long while, Natalia looked up to see her colleague, still seated, with a decidedly perplexed expression.

"I mean, is it just the old injury?" She tried to emphasize how she, and not Ben, had known Ryan when he had taken the nail to the eye. The slight length her relationship with Ryan had over his with Ben was, perhaps, her only leverage.

Benny nodded slowly, not sure how to handle the situation. She hadn't expected anyone to show up; he wasn't even sure how Natalia had found them here, and so quickly! Ryan had only been settled in bed by the orderlies for ten minutes when Natalia had entered.

The two women stood—and sat—in silence for a long while, Benny seething with unspoken jealousy and rage as Natalia reached out and stroked Ryan's face with a single loving finger. _What right do you have to be here? Who put up with his shit for a full year? Who drove him here? Who filled out all his insurance forms? And now you come in and wait for him to wake up and see you looking down at him like Florence freakin' Nightingale? It just figures. _Instead, she said, "Hey, Natalia, you don't have to stay here. Really. It's just a matter of waiting for him to come to and watch the drugs wear off. I'm sure they need you at the lab. I've got it under control here." All of this in her most painfully polite and civil tone. Funny, she had never had a problem with Natalia before.

"Oh, it's alright. I don't mind. In fact, you look spent. You could go get yourself a coffee or something if you want. I think the caf—" Natalia was interrupted as Ryan groaned from his position on the bed. He was waking up. Benny jumped up to his side. He was now flanked by beautiful coworkers.

"Ryan?" Benny called out softly as she took his hand in hers. She wanted to make it clear to Natalia, without saying anything, that Ryan was _her_ property. "Honey, how do you feel?" She asked as he opened his eye—maybe the other one, too; it was impossible to tell through that gauze—to survey his surroundings. He groaned again, this time more loudly, and raised the hand closest to Natalia to his face. He tenderly touched the bandage, and frowned sadly. It was all coming back.

"What's…over?" He was clearly still groggy from the anesthetic. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then again touched the bandage lightly, apply slight pressure to various places to gauge the damage. He then focused his visible eye on Benny, and smiled for the first time.

"I wondered…you stay." He muttered as he continued to smile at her, as if waking up in a hospital with a bandage over his face was worthwhile, if he woke up to her smile. "You stayed."

Benny nodded, squeezed his hand lightly. "Of course." Natalia was temporarily forgotten as they gazed at one another. That is, until she cleared her throat loudly, and stroked Ryan's arm gently.

"I came over as soon as I heard." The connection between her coworkers was undeniable, but she had to try.

Ryan focused his free eye on her for the first time. "Oh, umm…Boa Vista. Thanks." He was smiling at her, but not in nearly the same way he had smiled at Benny.

There was an awkward moment as the two women stood over the still somewhat incoherent Ryan. His left hand held Benny's right, and his right arm lay still on the bed as Natalia stroked it affectionately, a gesture not unnoticed by her colleagues.

The silence was broken when Benny's pager went off unexpectedly. She frowned as she unclipped it from her belt. _You've got to be kidding me. No one ever pages me, and when they do, I'm at the hospital with my…_

**Ben: Emergency. Call me at home –Fiona **

"OK, it's my sister; I've got to call her." She looked from Natalia to Ryan, hoping to God that nothing significant would transpire in her absence. Natalia nodded politely and smiled; Ryan waved slightly from the bed. "I'll be right back, babe." She whispered in Ryan's ear as she gave his hand a final squeeze.

_I'd more uncomfortable if not drugs._ Ryan would have been much more uncomfortable in the silence with Natalia, were it not for the anesthetics that still reigned over his nerves. Vaguely, he realized that she had pulled up a chair, and was now seated at his side, her face less than a foot from his as she ran her thumb from his cheekbone to his chin. The bandage effectively obscured his view of her, but he could tell that she was moving closer. _Some…happening. _He knew, somewhere in his mind, that something was happening, but he didn't understand. _So tired...tired…_He felt his breathing deepen, his body relax, as sleep claimed him. The last words he heard before he fell into a deep slumber: "Ryan, you know, I was so worried about you when I heard you were in the hospital. It made me realize that, you know, life is so short, and you and I really deserve another shot."

_Where Ben…hmm…_The chattering in his ear was giving him a headache, so he did the only thing that ever shut a woman up: he nodded his head pensively, trying to seem as though he was truly listening to whatever it was she was saying.

Natalia smiled broadly as Ryan shook his head. _He said yes! I knew he wanted us to be together!_

Three floors down, Benny craved a cigarette as her sister sobbed into the telephone.


	19. Satisfaction?

"Hey, H, where is everyone?" Asked Eric as he approached his supervisor in the hallway.

"Well, that depends who you're looking for." He replied.

"Well, Wolfe and Ben were due back, like, three hours ago, and I can't find Natalia anywhere."

Horatio looked up sharply; he had known that Benny and Ryan couldn't be expected back that day, but there was no reason for Natalia to be missing.

"They're, um, they're still out on a case. Have you tried paging Boa Vista?"

"Yeah; no luck with her cell phone or pager. At first, I just figured she was taking a long lunch, but she should be back by now." There was a discernible edge of concern to his voice; he would no longer admit it, but he still harboured feelings for the beautiful lab technician.

"Alright, Eric, don't worry about that right now. I'll take care of it. OK?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll, uh, just ask Valera."

"Alright." Horatio watched his young colleague walk away, and wondered, with a hint of anger, where Natalia had gotten to. He was aware that she had caught pieces of his phone call with Benny, but he didn't think she would actually do anything about it. He hastily dialed Benny's pager, knowing that she would have turned off her cell phone in the hospital. Within five minutes, his cell phone vibrated with her response.

"You paged me?" She still sounded so tired, so weary.

"Yes, Ms. Wallace, have you seen Natalia today?" Part of him wanted her to say yes, so that the mystery could be solved; part of him hoped that she hadn't really gone to the hospital to investigate Ryan's injury.

There was a confused pause on the line as Benny tried to figure out the situation. "Yeah, she's here. I think she's still up there with him. Ryan." _What the hell is going on?_

Horatio sighed deeply on the other end. His anger was mounting. "Alright, well could you please send her back here immediately?"

"Uh, yeah, Horatio. I'll go up right now."

"OK. Good."

_What the hell is going on?_

_ > > > > > _

Benny took the elevator to the third floor, and found herself face to face with Natalia when the doors opened.

"Boa Vista. Horatio just called. He wants you back at the lab." _What's with that smug grin?_

Indeed, Natalia had an arrogant smile etched across her attractive face as she thanked Ben and stepped onto the elevator.

_What the hell is going on?_

Benny walked into Ryan's hospital room to see that he had fallen asleep, a blank and peaceful expression upon what was visible of his face. Shrugging, she decided to get some paperwork done while she waited for him to wake. She opened her briefcase and got to work.

It was several hours before she looked at her watch and realized that she hadn't eaten since the previous night—she had not been hungry when she had gotten the call early that morning, and had not had time to eat since then. Glancing at Ryan, she guessed that he would be asleep for a few more hours, at least, but just in case, scribbled a quick note and placed it on the night stand beside his bed.

_Ryan,_

_Went to get a bite from the caf (9:45). Back in a few._

_Love,_

_Ben_

She had hesitated before signing her name, "love". Even when they had dated, they had never used the "L word", and she wondered if it would be inappropriate at this point. But she decided that it was ambiguous enough, and he could make of it whatever he wanted.

> > > > >

In the cafeteria, she put a bowl of vegetable soup, a carton of skim milk, an apple, and an energy bar onto her red plastic tray, paid at the counter, and found an empty table at which to devour her first meal in twenty-four hours.

When she wandered back into Ryan's room, she found him standing topless by the window, zipping up his dark blue jeans over a crisp, white pair of boxer briefs (_he still wears those?_). He looked up in alarm when he heard the door open, and made a futile attempt to cover his bare chest with his arms.

Benny blushed and quickly turned on her heel, almost walking into the closed door.

"Oh, uh, I didn't think you'd be…um, I'll come back later. Sorry." _Damn, he still looks so good._ She could feel her face burning red as she wrapped her trembling fingers around the cold doorknob. She was about to pull the door open when she heard Ryan laughing behind her.

"It's OK, Ben. It's not like you haven't seen it all before." He laughed at his joke. "I'm dressed now, it's OK."

She slowly turned around, her eyes on the floor. She saw his socked feet come towards her. Ever so cautiously, she raised her eyes. His dark blue denim jeans still had faint stains of vomit from the incident in her car. A white t-shirt clung to his shoulders, showing off his recently-developed musculature—the tanned arms, thick pectorals, slight bulge of a stomach where there used to be absolutely no body fat. He wouldn't usually wear a shirt like that without a dress shirt (often accompanied by a sweater vest) overtop, and it was a shame. He had developed a nice body, really grown into his build. Whereas he used to be very slight, with little muscle or fat on his thin frame, he had noticeably bulked up in past months. _Damn, Wolfe, you been hittin' the gym?_

And finally, her eyes moved up his face. A tiny smirk still played across his mouth, and she rested her eyes for a moment on the little freckle that graced the space between his upper lip and nose. His hair was still considerably messy, from lying in bed for so many hours, and it stuck out in every direction. And, of course, there was the elephant in the room—the large gauze bandage across his eye.

Her eyes met his, and she realized suddenly how closely they were standing. His nose was only inches from her forehead, and she could feel his light breathing on her face. Her face was upturned, and she was all-too conscious of the butterflies wreaking havoc on her insides_. Is he going to kiss me? Is he still loopy from the drugs? Why is he looking at me like that? Why was Natalia so happy when she left?_

It looked like the months of waiting were up, when he leaned his face towards hers, two sets of eyes preparing to close. She felt his hands on her hips, just holding her, the electricity generated between their two bodies as apparent as a strike of lightning.

But instead, he turned his face, and lowered his head, so that his mouth was beside her ear.

"I need to brush my teeth." He whispered.

The disappointment hit her like a truck. _What kind of asshole does that to someone who they know has a huge crush on them, then plays it off like a joke?_ She stepped away from him, tearing herself from his grip, and threw open the door to the tiny cubicle of a bathroom.

"I ordered basic toiletries to the bathroom when they admitted you. Razor, soap, shampoo—toothbrush, toothpaste—I figured you'd be here awhile." She said briskly as she strode back to her chair, continuing to pack up her papers. _Asshole._

Ryan just stood there a moment, frowning in confusion. _And here I am, thinking I'm doing her a favour by saving her from my morning breath. _He went into the bathroom and continued to brush his teeth, then, making sure Benny wasn't looking, carefully peeled the bandage off of his face, to reveal a scar considerably less formidable than he had expected.

The incision went from the corner of his eyebrow closest to his nose, down to the bottom inner corner of his eye—a mere two inches. The stitches were fresh, but not by any means as gruesome as one would expect from the agony he had suffered, only hours ago. _I'm almost disappointed._

He decided not to replace the bandage, and padded softly from the bathroom, across the cold linoleum floor, behind Benny as she stood with her back to him, fiddling with some papers. _What is she, ignoring me?_ He stood behind her, and gently ran a hand down her spine.

She sensed him behind her a brief moment before she felt his hand on her back, eliciting a strong response from every nucleus of every skin cell of her body. She turned slowly to face him, found herself practically on top of him, they were standing so closely. Neither made an effort to move.

"You took off the bandage." She whispered, and raised a hand to his face. She traced the skin around the wound, careful not to touch the actual injury, for fear of hurting him. _Does he ever worry about hurting me?_ Her hand continued down his cheek, brushing softly over his lips, his chin, his neck, his collarbone, and she found her palm resting on his chest.

His arms were around her now, neither having really realized that they were now in a full embrace. He hung on to her, his arms around her waist and his hips pressed against her. Their noses brushed against each other as he bent his head down for a long, deep kiss.

His kiss was fresh, thanks to the tooth-brushing only moments prior. He was gentle as he held her, his hands barely gracing her skin, yet his kiss was a different story. They were both so hungry for each other, so desperate for this moment that they kissed one another with the tenacity of a final worldly action, as if this kiss was the last thing either of them would ever do.

Their breathing was shallow and sharp as they clung to each other. Her hands moved up his back, as she ran her index finger up the nape of his neck. When finally they broke apart, it was as if they were junkies after a long-awaited fix. They were high on each other, and loving every minute of it. They stood there in each other's arms, gazing into each other's eyes, as small, satisfied smiles played across their faces.

Finally, satisfaction.


	20. A Little Credit

"I had to kill him to protect my family; that cheating bastard was ruining everything we worked so hard for!" cried out Analie Kusmanis defiantly as a police officer stood her up and cuffed her.

"No, you did that all on your own." Replied Horatio as he walked out of the interrogation room, right into a flustered-looking Natalia Boa Vista.

"Ms. Boa Vista, a word, please." He gestured toward the door of her lab, and followed her inside. "I understand that you took a trip to the hospital this afternoon," he said, trying to remain calm.

Natalia bit her lip. _Here it comes. The final straw._ "Ben told me that Ryan was in surgery; I thought I should visit him." _That's right, stick to the truth._

Horatio nodded. "Well, you see, the problem with that is that we were without your services during your absence. Ms. Wallace had the situation at the hospital under control, and you took off, leaving us one Lab Tech short. So you see the position that puts me in." His voice was calm and even as he dictated the speech he had mentally rehearsed since Benny had told him about Natalia's presence at the hospital.

"Yes, Lieutenant Caine, I realize that, but I couldn't help but think that if I was in the hospital, I would expect people to come visit me." She knew it was lame, but what was she supposed to say, _'I had to make sure that Ben wasn't putting the moves on him'_?

Horatio smiled. "In the future, I would ask that you please take your duties here more seriously." He said as he nodded in a dismissive way, then walked out the Lab, leaving Natalia hanging onto her job by a thread.

It wasn't long before Eric sauntered in. "Hey, I was looking for you." He said flirtatiously, hoping not to sound entirely desperate.

Natalia gave him her best smile. "Here I am." Her interest in Ryan was on the rise, but she had an undeniable chemistry with Eric that everyone seemed to notice. "I was just out running some errands. But…how can I help you?" She didn't see any reason to tell him that she had been visiting Ryan in the hospital.

"We got a few reports of body parts found in the area, so we checked it out and ran DNA, and apparently it matches an old case of yours from Wyoming?"

"Ah." She nodded. "Ryan and Ben found some, too. Looks like this guy—" she checked the sheet. "Keith Gordon, is in pieces across the country. The odds that he's alive are becoming slimmer with each test I run." And it was true. Besides the piece that Ryan and Ben had found, Eric had three portions of Gordon's body, and there were reports in Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Oklahoma, Mississippi, and Georgia.

"How much of his body has been found?" Eric asked.

"You'd have to see Alexx about that. The other states gave up their pieces of him without any hassle. I guess they figured no one would ever be able to figure this out." Natalia shrugged. She didn't expect the case to be solved, either.

"Alright, thanks, Natalia." He allowed his eyes to linger on hers for a beat longer than necessary, just to let her know that he was still interested.

"Sure." She, too, was reluctant to break the eye contact. But they finally did, and she watched as Eric walked towards the elevator that would take him to the morgue. _Now that is a fine piece of man. _

"Hey, Alexx, you think I could see what you've got of Keith Gordon?" Asked Eric as he pushed open the heavy door to the morgue, where Alexx stood by the sink, washing her hands after a particularly lengthy autopsy.

"Sure, but I don't know what you think you'll find. Not much left of him." She complied as she walked towards a drawer that contained the man's remains. She pulled open the drawer to reveal exactly what she had promised: not much. Two toes, a large chunk of thigh, a piece of hip, a few metatarsals, the piece of flesh that Ryan and Benny had found, two rib fragments, a jaw fragment with a few teeth, what looked like a piece of his nose, and a large clump of hair with the scalp still attached.

Eric suppressed his gag reflex. "This is all we've got?"

"Sorry, baby, but whoever killed him did their homework." She looked down at the drawer sadly. "Didn't they?"

Eric thought for a moment. "Killed him? So he's definitely dead."

Alexx laughed. "This much damage, I'd be surprised if he didn't die from infection alone. And the lack of hemorrhagic tissue indicates that he was chopped post-mortem."

"Alright. So we're looking for a murderer."

"Probably a lefty."

"Oh yeah? How can you tell?" Eric was intrigued.

"Well, I don't know if it'd be admissible in court, but the incisions seem to be made from right to left, indicating a left-handed surgeon." Alexx was now closing the drawer and making her way toward the sink to wash her hands again.

"Alright, so that narrows it down to ten percent of the population. Anything else?" He didn't try to hide his disappointment.

"C'mon, baby, give me a little credit." She pulled a file from a cabinet above the sink. "I found some blood on the surface of one of the tissue samples, and it seemed out of place, so I swabbed it and sent it to Maxine. Here's the report." She handed him the folder, smiling.

Eric read it slowly, then grinned broadly. "Alexx, you're a lifesaver." Realizing the irony in this statement, he smiled again. "I owe you one." He nodded at her and walked quickly from the morgue, excited about the findings.

Knowing that the case was originally Benny and Ryan's, he tried both of their cell phones, but with no luck. Both phones were off. He checked his watch and laughed. It was almost seven o'clock; he rarely stayed so long after shift. Figuring he would pick up on the case tomorrow with Benny and Ryan, he grabbed his stuff from his locker and, smiling at Natalia as he passed her lab, headed home.


	21. Closer Than Neighbours

"Well, Mr. Wolfe, provided that you have someone stay with you, I don't see why you can't go home tonight." Said Dr. Raynor as she looked over his chart.

Ryan frowned. "Why does someone have to stay with me?"

"Well, according to your chart, you're currently taking Prozac for OCD, correct?" She was impatient when people asked her questions about her job when she knew she was right.

He blushed. "Yeah. I am."

"And you have low blood pressure."

"Yeah…"

"We have you on a pretty intense antibiotic which, when coupled with Prozac, may further thin your blood. Add low blood pressure, and the risk that you'll feel dizzy or even experience bouts of fainting is too high for you to be alone for the next few days." Having put him in his place, she smiled and walked towards the door. "So I would highly recommend that you stay with someone for the next three or four days." She nodded to him and Benny, and walked out.

Ryan looked at the floor, memorizing the way his feet looked on the tiles. It was late—almost eleven o'clock—but the lights from the city flooded in through the window, leaving a various crisscross pattern on the room.

"So…I can stay with you." Said Benny softly from behind him. "If you want. It doesn't really matter to me." They had shared an unambiguous moment, but she was not yet ready to put herself "out there" to the point where she thought he felt she was pining to spend time with him.

Ryan turned and looked at her, breathing in her appearance as the light shone in behind her, creating a beautiful silhouette. Her shoulders were hanging low, and she looked somehow so old in that moment. It struck him how much she must have suffered because of him. How she still took him to the ER, and stayed with him all day. He stepped towards her, bringing a smile to both their faces.

"I'd like it if you stayed with me." His voice was barely a whisper, but she nodded in acknowledgement.

"I just have to get a few things, then we can go to your place. You want to come in?" They were sitting in her car, in her driveway, in front of her new house. Ryan had never been there.

_I wonder when she moved in here. _"Sure. I'd love to."

Ryan waited as she undid the multiple locks on her door, and then swung it open to reveal a darkened home. _I guess she's still worried about strangers. _He followed her inside as she flicked on a few lights, then disappeared into what he presumed was her bedroom.

"You want a drink or anything?" She called from her bedroom.

"I'm not really supposed to drink on this antibiotic." He responded, walking through her living room, admiring in the OCD part of his mind her meticulous attention to detail.

Her laugh floated in from the other room. "I know that! I have drinks here that don't have alcohol, you know."

Now it was Ryan's turn to laugh. "I'm alright, thanks."

After a few minutes, she returned, a black duffel bag in hand. He recognized it, with a strange churning sensation in his stomach, as her handy overnight bag, the one she had brought to his house so many time when they were dating.

_When we were dating…_

"All set?" Her voice brought him from his reverie. He nodded and followed her back out the door. He watched in fascination as she locked all three locks, unlocked the second, unlocked the third, locked the second, unlocked the first, locked the third, then locked the first.

_I guess this is how it looks to an outsider. _He had often considered how his obsessive-compulsive tendencies might appear to a non-sufferer, and he was intrigued to observe her behaviour.

She smiled when she turned back to face him, a smile he hadn't seen in a long time. Benjamin had many smiles; the fake, professional smile she put on for strangers, her childish grin when she was feeling hyper, her genuinely contented smile, her perfected smile for pictures, and her completely excited smile, to name a few.

Right now, she smiled at him like she was truly happy in what she was doing. He couldn't help but smile back.

_Those eyes…_

In the car on the way to his apartment, Ryan thought about Benny's smile. How he hadn't noticed in the past few months that she was not smiling in her genuinely happy way. How he should have realized her malcontent. How much he owed her for just giving him a second chance.

_If I'm not the luckiest guy in the world…_He smiled, genuinely happy, he realized, for the first time in a long time.


	22. So Hard to Be Mute

Benny sat awkwardly on the couch, watching an old rerun of Saturday Night Live, as Ryan changed into his pajamas in his bedroom. She was perfectly at home in his apartment; she always had been. Something about the place just felt like home to her. Maybe it was the fact that it was completely immaculate; maybe it was the way it smelled like Ryan; maybe it was the fact that she had so many perfect memories within these walls. Whatever the case, she loved being here. But now she wondered what the situation was going to be. Were they going to sleep in his bed, just like the old days, pretending nothing had happened? Was he going to sleep on the couch? Was she? Benny had never been one to draw attention to an awkward set of circumstances, but now she was left wondering if she should be the one to bring up the sleeping situation.

She was drawn from her contemplation by Ryan's sudden weight beside her on the couch. She looked over at him and smiled. He was wearing a grey t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. _Typical Ryan garb_.

Ryan let his eyes wander over his guest's figure for a moment before speaking. Having already changed into her sleeping attire, she wore a black t-shirt that read "Dead and Divine" across the front in haphazard font, and grey sweatpants. _She always did love to wear sweatpants. _

"So I was thinking I could let you commandeer my bed while you're here; I don't mind riding the couch." He smiled brightly, like it was the most normal thing in the world for them to be having a 'sleepover'.

Benny didn't know how to feel. _I guess you can't expect him to come right out and ask me if I want to spoon._ Still, she was slightly taken aback by the casualty with which he presented this option.

She shrugged. "I don't mind the couch at all; you probably need your rest while you're healing, anyway." _When we were dating, did I let you pay for me when we went to movies?_

He sighed, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. "OK, so we'll alternate nights. That's as low as I'm willing to go. And tonight's your night in the bed." He grinned boyishly, and she sheepishly returned the gesture.

"You always did know how to compromise." She said as she stood up and padded softly across the room. At his bedroom door, she turned around and smiled at him (_sadly?_). "Goodnight, Ryan."

He just looked at her. He knew she was disappointed; he could always tell when she was trying not to blame him. _What did I do this time?_

Fifteen feet and a thousand worlds away, Benny curled up in Ryan's teal duvet and swallowed back the tears threatening her pride. _How could you expect anything to happen? He doesn't give a damn; he just wants to be friends. You don't care. You don't care. You don't care…_

She drifted into a somber, dreamless sleep.

"_Karl Lampley? MDPD, I'd like to ask you some questions." Ryan opened the trailer door and walked in slowly. _

"_Mr. Lampley?" He opened a closet and gasped as some architectural designs fell out on him. Laughing, he stepped over the mess to another door, which he had barely reached when he felt a searing pain across his face. He had never felt anything like it. _

_Is this how I'm going to die?_

Ryan sat up on the couch, his pulse racing. He had had these dreams before, but they had never seemed so…real.

_I guess it makes sense; it's been a long day._ He exhaled loudly as he lay back down on the couch, staring up at the stucco ceiling. He wasn't very tired, and certainly not eager to be falling back to sleep. He glanced at the grandfather clock that stood ominously near the door to the kitchen, and read that it was nearly six in the morning. Yawning, he raised himself quickly into a sitting position…too quickly. He felt an agonizing rush of blood from his head, and experienced a moment of nauseating dizziness as he waited for the head rush to pass. Having always had low blood pressure, he had experienced this before, but never with such magnitude. After a moment, though, it passed, and he cautiously stood, to prepare himself some breakfast.

After cracking two eggs onto an expensive non-stick pan and popping a few pieces of bread into the toaster, he remembered why he had woken up on the couch, and searched in his refrigerator for the ingredients to his guest's favourite breakfast dish.

Benny rolled over in bed, throwing her arm across the place that would have otherwise been occupied by its owner. Unconsciously noticing the emptiness of the space, she woke slowly, opening a bleary eye to her somewhat familiar surroundings. It took a moment for the events of the previous day to register, but when they did, she had mixed emotions.

_The kiss…you can't pretend there was nothing there. But then we come here and it's as if nothing happened. Damnit, Ryan! _

She yawned and threw her legs over the side of the bed, then walked across the cold hardwood floors, opening the door to the rest of Ryan's home.

Her immediate impression was that she was at her parents' home in Saskatchewan. The scents were completely reminiscent of her childhood, and the feeling of belonging was undeniable.

"Morning, sunshine." Ryan greeted her brightly, placing an arm behind her shoulder and gently ushering her towards the kitchen table, upon which was a variety of dishes she had forgotten he knew how to make.

"Sleep well?" He seemed really chipper for just after six in the morning, but there was the tiniest air of uncertainty, as if he were just awaiting her approval. She nodded at him slowly, aware that her mouth hung slightly agape.

Finally, she gathered her thoughts. "Ryan, what's…what's with all this?" She gestured toward the plates of food set before her. _What the hell is with all this?_

_Oh God, she hates it. _"Well, I slept through most of yesterday, so I woke up early today and thought I'd make myself useful." He grinned broadly, but Ben could still detect that slight tremor in his voice as he begged for her approval. _My forgiveness?_

"Well, it's great." She held her eyes on his for a moment longer than necessary, then scanned the table, taking in all of her favourite dishes. "I'm surprised you remembered how to make 'Benny's Omelet'. And those little doughnuts! Oh, Ryan, this is…" She gazed across the table at where he had taken a seat. "You really didn't need to do this." _He sure knows the way to my heart! And I do hope that's where he's headed._

Ryan shrugged. "Well, you know, you hung out with me all yesterday and I just thought I'd show you my…uh…" He laughed, blushing. "My appreciation, Benny. I appreciate everything that you've done." It seemed as though he was referring to the previous day, when she had spent her time in his hospital room, but they both knew better. _I'm talking about the way you make it worthwhile to come to work because when you laugh it's the greatest sound I've ever heard, and when you smile from ear to ear because you've found the tiniest piece of trace evidence, it makes me want to gather you in my arms and never let go. And when you look at me with those eyes, I'm reminded of what an idiot I am and how I pray that our kiss yesterday meant as much to you as it did to me. _

He knew she didn't read minds, but he hoped she could read his expression and know that he cared the world for her. Because everyone knew that Ryan Wolfe was not much for speaking his heart. It made him uncomfortable to say those words aloud, and, as always, he hoped things would work out without necessitating any serious speech from him. He was sensitive and compassionate, but when it came to his feelings, he could be painfully mute.


	23. Instant Karma

Benny wrung the remaining excess water from her hair, then stepped gingerly from the shower, clad in an oversize terrycloth towel, provided generously by her host. Breathing in the steam from her hot shower, she faced the mirror, contemplating for a moment what to write on the steam-fogged surface. It had always been tradition in her house to leave a nice message on the mirror after a shower, a tradition that she had shown Ryan, so many months ago.

She ran a water-wrinkled hand through her hair as she mentally ran through a series of her favourite Beatles' quotes.

_All you need is love…How does it feel to be one of the beautiful people, now that you know who you are?...Eight days a week is not enough to show I care…Ah, look at all the lonely people…I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in and stops my mind from wandering…Happiness is a warm gun…_

In his bedroom, Ryan listened to the bathroom's silence following his guest's shower, knowing exactly what she was doing. _She probably thinks I've forgotten…_

Smiling broadly to herself, Benny nodded proudly as she decided upon a quote, and started writing it neatly on the mirror with her index finger.

Ryan could barely hold back a laugh as he heard the familiar squeaking of Benny's finger upon the fogged mirror. She had no doubt decided upon an intelligent, thought-provoking Beatles quote, that he would look up to ensure that he would be knowledgeable in future conversation.

A few minutes later, she emerged, clean and dressed, damp hair strewn across her shoulders.

"I'm done in the bathroom!" She called to Ryan as she headed towards the kitchen, checking the clock on her way. _Almost eight. I should hurry up if I'm going to make it on time to work. _

Ryan appeared behind her in the kitchen. "I spoke to Horatio this morning. He doesn't want me coming in for a few days." From his expression, it was obvious that it was a point of bitterness, one he had argued in vain. "So I guess I'll just stay here today…until you get back?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question, but he also didn't want to give the impression that he would assume that she would be back everyday after work. _Maybe she doesn't want to stay here. That's fine._

Ben nodded. "Sounds good. If you need anything just give me a call anytime." A brief, not entirely awkward, moment passed between them, as they silently noticed the resemblance to their old relationship, where they had one another on speed dial, to be contacted on a whim. "I'd better get going now." She added quietly, brushing past him on her way out of the kitchen. "I'll see you tonight."

Ryan watched her grab her jacket from the front closet and open the door. "Bye, Ben!" He added suddenly. Watching her walk away just then had been a surprisingly painful experience.

She turned around at the door and gave him a smile. _No_, the_ smile. The one I love most. The one where you feel like she's so happy to be where she is and the next time she sees you, she'll smile like she's missed you. _

Though he didn't know it, Ryan was giving Benny the same smile that he was admiring on her.

By the time Ryan remembered about Benny's message in the bathroom, it had all but faded from the mirror. Luckily, it had only been a few minutes and enough remained of it to be legible, or enough so that the necessity for him to squint was minimal. He braced himself on the counter as he deciphered her slanted writing:

_Daylight is good at arriving at the right time. It's not always going to be this grey. _

He stared at it for a long time after he had understood the writing, trying to get inside of her head, comprehend what she had been thinking. On the one hand, it seemed so optimistic: _daylight is good at arriving at the right time._

_Not that I was ever very good at poetry analysis, but I would say that daylight is a metaphor for a happy, new beginning. _

He smiled at the thought, glad that Benny was looking forward with optimism. Then he remembered the latter portion of the message, and frowned as he took it into consideration: _it's not always going to be this grey._

_So melancholy! I didn't realize that 'it' was grey. I wonder if I'll ever make her unconditionally happy. _

And for a long time, Ryan Wolfe stared at the fading message in the mirror, wishing that for just one time in his life, he could have an open conversation with someone and not have to interpret the hidden meanings that their words represented, but knowing that he caused his loved ones to wish the same of him.

He suddenly laughed, realizing the words that had come to mind as he considered the situation:_ instant karma._


	24. Such is Life

Benny sang quietly to herself under her breath as she walked down the hallway of CSI.

"_All things must pass; none of life's dreams can last. So I must be on my way to face another day…"_ She reflected fondly upon the message she had left on Ryan's bathroom mirror, wondering if he had read it, knowing that he had. _He always did._ She pushed open the door to the layout room where Eric stood, looking at some pictures strewn across the table.

"Nice of you to join us, slacker." He said with a grin when he saw her.

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to ditch yesterday but…such is life." She shrugged, hoping she wouldn't have to go into details. He nodded and gestured for her to stand beside him, as to view the pictures more efficiently.

"So just to bring you up to date on the Gordon case," he began, picking up the two rap sheets. "We're thinking that Marcy killed her ex-husband Keith and scattered his body in small pieces across the country. We know that someone did, and she's our only suspect at present because of the errant hair." He indicated the close-up of the flesh Benny had found only the day before.

"And how do we find this broad?" she asked as she organized the papers on the table so that they were all straightened and equidistant.

Eric chuckled. "I don't think I've ever heard a girl say the word, 'broad' before. It's…" he trailed off.

"It's what, Mr. Delko?" Ben asked playfully.

"Refreshing?" He grinned. _This girl is something else._ But his interest in her was purely friendly and professional. She clearly had a huge thing for Ryan, and he didn't want to get in the middle of it. "To answer your question…I can't answer your question. We've put out a broadcast on the last vehicle she was known to drive but other than that there's not much we can do."

Benny sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that. What about checking out her credit card, see where she's been hanging out. If we can—" Her face suddenly lit up, translating that childish glee that she sometimes got in the midst of a case. She turned and ran out of the room.

"Ben!" Eric called out the door at her retreating form. "You gonna fill me in?"

She turned back, the look of excitement clear in her face. "You're going to _love_ me for this."

Two hours later, Benny was still immersed in the detailed records of Marcy Gordon's life. Starting with her birth certificate, Ben then moved on to her baptismal certificate, graduation diploma, marriage certificate, legal records, credit history, and, most importantly, her passport history. Eric walked in to find her hunched over her laptop, scanning a series of papers.

"So where are we with this?" Eric asked her when it became clear that she hadn't noticed him walk in.

"Name the states where we recovered Keith Gordon's body parts." She replied, not taking her eyes off of the screen.

Eric paused for a moment. "Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Oklahoma, Mississippi, and Georgia. Clumps of states, but not all in one area. I still don't know where you're going with this."

"Check it. I have credit card receipts and passport stamps that indicate that Marcy Gordon went to all of those states, plus Nevada, New Mexico, Tennessee, and Ohio. Busy girl."

"And what do you want to bet that there are little pieces of hubby in all those states."

Ben grinned. "I like our odds."

"So, can your magic credit records tell us where she is now?"

"Last purchase was a bean burrito and coffee in Fort Lauderdale, two days ago." She looked at Eric mischievously. "I'll drive."

"Honey, I'm home!" Benny called as she opened the front door to Ryan's home and hung up her jacket on the coat rack. Stepping inside, her senses were immediately met by the acrid scent of yams, mashed potatoes, and _mashed potatoes?_

"Hey, you got here just in time!" called out Ryan as he stepped out of the kitchen. Benny couldn't help but laugh. Ryan Wolfe, renowned for his sudden bouts of anger, gorgeous—but unfortunately concealed—body, and intense ambition, was clad in a baby blue apron that read "Ms." across the front. He blushed when he realized what he was wearing, and made to untie it, but Benny came forward and grabbed his hand.

"You pull it off nicely, Mr. Wolfe." _What a cutie. He cooks, he cleans—well, OK, he _really_ cleans—and he still manages to maintain one hot bod. _

Ryan's face was beet red as he looked down and smiled slightly. "I just finished setting the table. I hope you're hungry."

"Honestly, Ryan, don't be a fool. You cooked; it's only fair that I do the dishes!" Benny argued heatedly as they cleared the table over an hour later.

"You can wash, but I'm drying and putting them away. That's as far as I'm willing to compromise." They stared one another down for a moment, then smiled and headed into the kitchen.

They settled into a comfortable, well-fed silence as they did the dishes together, until Ryan cleared his throat.

"So, my eye seems to be doing really well; my vision is way better than before. I think I can go into work tomorrow." His tone, however, suggested that he was seeking her approval. _One night at my place and already she's got me _asking_ if I can go to work. Who doesn't love a tough, empowered woman?_

Benny smiled at him as she handed him a wooden spoon. "Now, Ryan, the doctor said that you're not to work for at least three days. And speaking of which, I couldn't help but notice that your antibiotics are in the exact same place as they were when I left this morning; you really need to take those if you want to avoid infection."

"Yes, mother." He replied jokingly, rolling his eyes. _Could we _be_ any more of an old married couple?_

It was late into the evening by the time Benny and Ryan got settled onto the couch to watch her favourite movie, The Lion King.

"You've got to be the only adult I know who has this film memorized." Ryan commented as he sat down with a bowl of popcorn. "I mean, I could see you liking chick flicks, maybe some historical documentaries, or even noir, but The Lion King? It's…" Benny shot him a glance. "Unprecedented."

"Hey, man, it's a quality film." She retorted, defensive of her beloved movie. "Any important life lesson is in here and…oh, shush, it's starting." She said as the tell-tale opening lyrics began.

_What a weirdo. But, hey, it's all a part of her allure._

The movie continued, but the plot had barely developed before Benny was asleep on Ryan's shoulder, her hand in the popcorn bowl. The long day had taken its toll and she was out like a light, without a single complaint from Ryan, who was all-too aware of her gentle breathing, and her familiar scent so near to him.

_How familiar is this? It seems so wrong that it would feel so right to have her passed out on my shoulder._ He thought back to how she used to curl up on the couch with her head in his lap, and inevitably fall asleep before long. _She seems so young sometimes. _

He thought for a long while about what to do, and seriously considered just carrying her right into his bedroom and tucking her in, but somehow he knew that she would be embarrassed to be put to bed by anyone but a parent; he had developed a certain aptitude for predicting the ways in which her pride would make itself evident. With this in mind, he gently roused her from her sleep.

"Ben, hon, you should probably go to bed." He whispered softly, almost hoping she wouldn't wake easily, giving him no choice but to lift her to bed. But she woke quickly, rubbed her eyes, and looked at him with that expression he had forgotten about, but immediately remembered. Her eyes were bloodshot, her lids low, and she looked generally confused and disconcerted. It was a strange face, that she always made when woken up, but he found it somehow irresistible and beautiful.

"I fell asleep?" She seemed crestfallen at the notion.

It took a moment for him to find his voice. "Yeah…I wasn't going to wake you, but…yeah."

She nodded. "Yeah." _At least he knows better than to try and tuck me in._

They looked at one another for a long while, until she patted his knee. "I hate to break up the party, but I have work in the morning, and you're sitting on my bed."

_Huh?_ "Huh?"

"I got the bed last night. Time to switch it up."

"But— "

"And before you can try to object like some sort of gentleman," She rose, grabbed his hands, and pulled him to his feet. "I insist." She turned him, and, with a smack to his bottom, sent him in the direction of his bedroom.

He turned at the door. "You know, Ben, I wouldn't mind—"

"No, no, no, you made me two meals today and sat through a children's movie. You're sleeping in your bed, and that's final." She interjected.

Ryan nodded. "Right. I'll, uh…I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Ryan."

"Goodnight."

And with that, he quietly shut the door and walked over to his bed, where he sat with his head in his hands for a long time. _She should have let me finish._

He had been about to say, "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to share my bed tonight."

_Such is life. _


	25. Smiling all the Way

She was gone when he woke up, but somehow he expected that she would be. Benny had a tendency to take a step back when things got too serious, too intense…_when someone gets too close. _

Ryan stretched, yawned, and sat up in bed. Evaluating his surroundings, he realized what a long day he was in for; with no work and minimal hobbies to occupy him, he would likely spend the day cleaning and organizing his house. He sighed and padded softly into the kitchen.

_Damn, I'm going stir crazy sitting around here all day. _He was definitely going to need something to keep him busy if he was going to survive the next few days of solitude and boredom.

Intentionally taking his time and deliberately avoiding eye contact with any timing device, Ryan fixed himself a full and nutritious breakfast; _it's amazing what nice meals I make when I have such an excess of time. _He made oatmeal, pancakes, bacon and eggs, prepared fruit salad, and brewed a fresh pot of coffee. It was only after making such an excess of food that he realized he would never be able to consume it all in one sitting. He laughed at his foolishness, and nearly jumped in surprise at the sound of his own laughter bubbling out of him. _I guess it's just been a while since I've been so relaxed and stress-free. And making way too much food in Ben's kitchen. _

At the thought of Ben, he smiled. He just couldn't help it; everything about her seemed to fit him perfectly. Even when they were in the midst of a heated disagreement, he was struck by how her arguments so closely resembled what he would say in her position; every day he realized something new about her that made them—in his mind—even more compatible.

He collapsed into a kitchen chair and sighed. _I wish I could have five minutes where I didn't think about her. Just a vacation from the intensity and turmoil. I'm sick of always thinking about her, always wondering what she's doing, and with whom, sick of wondering if she's thinking the same things about me. _

He decided to take his mind off of the pressing romantic issue by digging into his breakfast and looking over the newspaper. He had made a significant dent in his meal by the time he realized that literally every article of interest to him in the paper had been removed. _What the hell?_ He rifled through it multiple times, then saw a pile of newspaper stacked neatly on the counter. Upon closer inspection he realized that Benny had read the paper over her breakfast, removing the articles she read as she did so, resulting in two piles—the parts she had read, and the parts she didn't care to read.

Ryan felt that familiar twinge—_even our taste in newspaper is the exact same. How can she not see it? _The frustration—that someone he loved so dearly could be so blind to such an obvious compatibility—was finally too much for him, so he decided to take the edge off with a nice, long run. He quickly dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, but as he was leaving, something caught his eye: a bright yellow note stuck to his bedside table, reading,

"_Ryan,_

_PLEASE don't forget to take your meds today. I'd hate to have to kill you._

_Because you're a wicked-good cook._

_Love,_

_Benny"_

He read it over a few times, just to ingrain it on his memory. _She said 'love'._

He ran seven miles that morning, smiling all the way.


End file.
